Untitled
by DetoxAngel
Summary: One day, as we were trying to have some lame attempt at a father-son dinnertime, he said to me, "I think I need to do something with my life." I blinked and glanced down. What should I have said?  "I need to get a job." EXPLICIT. Rated M to the max.


Yeah, yeah, I know I should updating stories that have already begun (coughwhatit'slikecough), but I have an excuse. You ever type a bunch of stuff out and then lose all of it? Not exactly inspiring, is it? Yeah, that's what happened. Anyway, I hope this will appease some of you, and because, really, you guys needed it. There are very little good fics out there anymore. It's...depressing. It makes us authors who have been writing on this site for years so dispassionate about our work because everywhere we look there's crap and nobody lately is good enough to inspire us. Sigh...so sad.

Anyway, I must warn you all: I have officially stepped outside of the box and have fallen flat on my face. This one is a LOOONNG one, so make time for it, kay? Enjoy.

* * *

My Dad and I had been living alone together for about three and a half years. My mother had told him one day that she just couldn't deal with his ridiculous sex drive anymore. At the time, I was nine and the spoon I had in my hand simply slipped from my grasp and hit the ceramic bowl with a dull 'ping'.

Dad had glanced at me, during which time he grabbed her elbow and gently guided her out of the kitchen so that they could talk in private. And that was it. She left the next morning. She didn't leave without saying goodbye and offered her new home to me whenever I wanted to come and see her. I took full advantage and went to her place everyday after school.

Dad on the other hand was so quiet in the following weeks that he was practically reclusive. Every time I tried to have a conversation with him, it either dwindled down to awkward small talk or he rebuffed my efforts altogether. I didn't know what made me more upset, that he was acting like a kicked puppy all the time or that I might have been being insensitive about it all. Sometimes I felt like a total dick.

In time he got over it and things more or less went back to normal between us, but we still never really talked about anything. That might have had something to do with the fact that he didn't talk as much as was commonly perceived among his friends. Well, at least not to me.

One day, as we were trying to have some lame attempt at a father-son dinnertime, he said to me, "I think I need to do something with my life." I looked up at him to see him with a frown of disdain on his face.

"I don't do anything."

I was quick to point out that he had saved the world only God knows how many times, but he just shrugged and continued to scowl.

I blinked and glanced down. What should I have said?

I wanted to say that he wasn't useless, but if he asked me what he did, besides saving the world (which was huge), I knew I could only offer a few meager things. But what he did was a lot to me. Everything he did seemed to be the most extraordinary things in the world to me. Feats. It was easy stuff; anybody could do it. But when Dad did it, it was like he was going above and beyond and I couldn't really explain it better than that.

"I need to get a job." He'd finally said it, the words I knew were coming at some point in this conversation. As he talked, I tried not to stare at his lips.

"I'll go after breakfast." And the conversation was over. I had nothing to say to that. I was happy for him.

The next morning, as I got ready for school, Dad was up early as usual, except he had entered the kitchen in what I thought was the best suit he owned.

"Is this the right thing to where to a job interview?"

I felt the horror fill me when I found that all I could do was stare at him. I did this for several silent seconds before I blinked and looked away to act as if I had to look for something in my backpack.

I told him that it depended on where he was looking and proceeded to give him examples of jobs where the interviewer might have been impressed by a suit. He nodded his head as he absorbed it all, then started writing his choices of where to look on a napkin. I wanted to offer him a piece of notebook paper, but I didn't say anything.

"Thanks, son," he said and I closed my bag and quickly collected my keys and jacket from the rack and hastily made to leave.

"See you later, Dad, knock 'em dead!" I ran out the door and took to the air off to school.

When I came home from Mom's house, my Dad still wasn't there. I raised a curious eyebrow, then shrugged my shoulders. I guess he was still on the grind. I really did hope he found a job, one that made him happy.

I went to my room and did my homework in a funk. I kept wondering what kind of job my Dad would return with, if he got one. Maybe he would be a personal trainer. I could see him doing something like that. Or he could be construction worker, he liked to build things. He'd built the house we were living in. Did a great job, too.

I finished my work and went downstairs for a snack, deciding I would have a heaping bowl of cereal. I was in the kitchen and had just taken the big, china soup bowl out of the cabinet when I heard Dad's voice.

"I think I might like this job," he announced, walking into the kitchen. I turned around, excited and ready to ask what kind of job he found. What I saw made the large china bowl I was holding slip from my hand. I heard the bowl explode into shards as it hit the floor. My lips parted in shock.

He was wearing a navy blue, well-pressed uniform and black boots. My eyes widened and I gaped. He wasn't a personal trainer.

He wasn't a construction worker.

He was a cop.

"Do you think I'll be good at this? I mean, I know I've stopped tougher bad guys, so this should be nothing, right?"

I couldn't grace him with a reply.

He had a black, thick utility belt with a nightstick and hand cuffs on one side with a pocket for his notepad, a radio walkie talkie, and gun on the other. The uniform fit him so well I was at a loss for words. The shirt was short sleeved, not tight, but form-fitting and the pants were creased in the middle of the legs and fit him in a loose hug of the same thick material the shirt was made of. They were straight legged and the hem rested perfectly on his dully shined black boots.

Dear God.

"U-um..." was all I could utter. He looked down at himself and lightly touched his equipment, kind of patted his chest and smiled at me.

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't keep staring at him like that, but I didn't really know what to say. Dad looked at me expectantly.

"W-wow." I inwardly cringed. Score, Gohan, real eloquent.

"What, do you think this is wrong for me? I wasn't expecting to work as a police officer, but when I was walking to the museum, I noticed the sign that said they were looking for capable, strong men to recruit and I think to myself, 'I'm capable, I'm strong' and so I went in there to see what it was about."

There was more crime in Satan City after the Cell Games than there ever had been. You would think that having the man who "defeated" Cell living in the city would make crime go down, but it strangely had the opposite effect and there was a bank robbery at least once a month and several burglaries and mugging and gangs and the department had been having a difficult time with their lack of man power. At least, this is what Mrs. Mikigami told us when warning us about criminals near the school.

Dad paused, probably because he had just noticed that I still hadn't stopped staring at him. I usually stared, but this time I was staring hard. He smiled and pulled a chair out and sat down.

"They told me I would need a lot of training and I told them that I already had lots of training," he continued. "They told me about the yearly police academy training and how rigorous it would be, at least that's what they said. I guess the other guys there thought I was a rookie who didn't have a hope of being an officer and felt like having fun. They gave me a test to do and I had to jump through tires and over walls and lots of other stuff, but it was too easy, so I asked them when I was gonna be tested on the hard stuff. They kind of looked at me like I did magic or something and then next thing I know they hired me and gave me these clothes, and they even gave me this cool tag with my name on it."

I looked at the brass pin and sure enough 'SON' was engraved on it, complete with a badge on the left side. I could barely believe it. My Dad was a cop. A cop who looked very good in his uniform. For a moment my eyes were drawn to the gun on his hip and I tried to envision my Dad pointing it at someone and couldn't. Then I took a brief glance at the handcuffs. I quickly looked away from them when my thoughts crept to what it would be like to have them tightly enclosing my wrists.

"You still haven't told me what you think." That was because what I thought was something no son should ever explain to his father.

"You look very nice in your uniform," I blurted. I snapped my lips shut and tried to fight the heat rising up my neck.

He laughed. The sound made my stomach tighten.

"Thanks, Gohan. But what do you think about it as a job for me. Think I'd be any good at it?" He sounded happier than he had in months. I thought it was weird that he didn't even mention the broken bowl at my feet. I cleared my throat a little and tried again.

"I didn't think about you coming home as a cop, but I guess it really is the thing you would be the best at. But what about people finding out about you? Aren't you worried about that? What if..." I babbled on as I cleaned up the mess I made about what could happen if the department thought he was a freak and began to be afraid of him because he was so strong. How was he going to control his power if he could barely hold a tea cup without breaking it?

He smiled all through my questions and worries. Nodded his head at each point I made and when I was done, leaned forward and rubbed the top of my head reassuringly.

"Aw, don't worry about it, son. I'll work on it and I've had enough experience keeping my power a secret from civilians. I don't think I'll have to do too much anyway. I could probably scare some criminals into not committing crimes anymore," he said with a grin.

I laughed too and managed to shift my awkward gaze to the floor. If I looked anywhere else I was going to end up staring again. Right then I wished I hadn't already done my homework so that I would have a real excuse to leave the room. On such a momentous occasion as my father getting a job, and such a good one, I should be wanting to celebrate with him.

But I couldn't stop the urge to take another look at how deliciously well his pants fit over the area of his crotch and if I spent anymore time in the kitchen with him I knew I would look.

I was about to tell him that I was going to go read something but he said, "I'm going to change out of these clothes. I have to keep them clean for tomorrow." What had happened to the clothes he left the house in? I asked him.

"Oh, they gave me a locker, and I figured it wouldn't hurt to have a change of clothes there so I left them. I wanted to show you my uniform."

I was eternally glad he didn't show me on a day when I wore tighter pants than the ones I was wearing now. Thank goodness my baggy slacks and long t-shirt that hid my full mast erection.

"It looks really good on you," I informed him again. I fought to not look between his spread legs as he sat on the chair. I don't know if it looked strange to him that after staring at him the way I had I was looking at the floor as if there was something down there that interested me. But I thought I'd better go.

"Thanks, Gohan."

When he said my name I knew it was really time to leave. He usually just called me 'son' and I had gotten very used to that. Whenever he said my same, to me it felt a little less personal and made me a feel a bit too comfortable with the thought that perhaps he could see me as something other than his son. I didn't wish for anything in the world that he wasn't my father, but I wasn't stupid or innocent. I knew it was wrong to think about and look at him the way I did. Sometimes I think that if I wasn't his son maybe I would have some semblance of a chance with him.

I just smiled and left the kitchen, trying not to look like I was in any hurry to get away. When I got to my room, I dropped face down on my bed and sighed.

I had been thinking about my Dad in unspeakably naughty ways since I discovered the joys of the internet and sex. I was always interested in him, I've always admired him and he was handsome. Very, very handsome. I was proud of him, and his strength. I loved his personality, his clumsiness, his naivete, his smile, his happiness, his rage. I loved everything about him. It was okay until I turned nine. Up until then, it was purely innocent.

He had just returned from another planet after a year of training to control his new Super Saiyan strength. I remember the first time I saw him transform and I was terrified. The boy from the future, who was Bulma's and Vegeta's son had done it too, but I wasn't afraid of him because somehow I knew that he wasn't as powerful as my Dad. Dad then proceeded to make the same deadly sword that turned Frieza into coldcuts look like a toy as Trunks swung it at him with even more force than he used when he chopped up the the Ice-jin.

That might have been the first time I had a physical reaction to Dad's power. My stomach did the weirdest tightening, flipping motion and I felt a little woozy, like I was being deprived of air. But I was so excited about him being back that I soon forgot about it.

When my ninth birthday came around, Mom got me my first computer. It was a laptop and I thought it looked very expensive. I think she bought it because she was so happy that Dad had come back that she felt like being generous. I taught myself how to use it and when I began puberty, I was so scared of what was happening to me that I didn't want to talk to my parents about it. I was ten at the time and I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I searched the internet for information about my symptoms. After absorbing the helpful information, I made the not-so-shocking discovery a year later.

Like every young boy going through puberty, I sprung erections at the most unsavory times, when I was in the shower, when I woke up, in the middle of the day, sometimes when I was watching television. But I couldn't help but notice that I got them quite often when I was near my father. He would smile at me and I'd feel the familiar stir of my cock and didn't know why it was happening. It didn't happen all the time (thank Kami) but I definitely noticed that it happened an inordinate amount of the time when I was near him. Some things, I came to know, would definitely get me hard. When we sparred, avoiding a boner was impossible. Either he didn't seem to notice, or he was considerate of my plight and didn't want to embarrass me and either way, I was glad.

That year, when I was eleven, he and I went into the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. I didn't know it before we went in, but it turned out to be pure torture. Every time 'it' happened, I felt so guilty because I knew why we were in the chamber in the first place. I was scared of what would happen in the battle to come. I was scared that we would never get strong enough, that what happened in Trunks' future would happen to us. I was scared that he would die. But I couldn't for the life of me not pitch wood when I saw him in the suit. The only thing that kept me sane was thinking of how terrible it would be if I were to lose him. I killed many an erection with those thoughts, but that didn't stop me from getting them.

When we left the chamber, my fear of losing him was so bad that I nearly told him what had been happening to me for fear that I would never be able to live with myself if he died and I didn't. But I didn't and he died. I begged for him not to leave me, that if he did I was going to do something bad. I threatened and blackmailed him to stay and he gave in. After that, I slowly began to come to terms with the fact that I held a strong sexual attraction to my Dad and by the time I was thirteen, I had fully processed and accepted it.

But I still suffered with it. These days, it wasn't hard for him to turn me on. So of course the cop uniform did. I don't know why, because I'd never thought of the navy outfit as sexy before. As I lay there, I thought about his gun. At one point, I was interested in guns, not because I wanted one, but because I had seen Bulma fire one and thought it looked cool.

Guns were virtually useless for and against Saiyans. Even some of our human friends like Krillin, Yamacha, and Master Roshi were nearly immune to bullets. But I was bored and it looked cool. I read all about them so it was easy for me to identify the type of gun he had in his holster.

It was a Browning Pro9 10mm handgun and by no means was it a weak weapon. It was inferior to some other handguns, but it was said to have powerful muzzle and recoil and wasn't the kind of weapon that was easy for just any person to handle. Of course, my Dad could handle it, if he had to, and I knew he would never have to.

I tried to envision him holding it, pointing it, shooting it, and it was hard, but I could picture him pointing it. I actually surprised myself by imagining his target to be me. I explored the thought a little more. I thought about him getting rough with criminals if he had to, shoving them up against their vehicles as they fought him. He wouldn't have to exert much strength to hold the person down. Then he would pat their bodies and pockets to search for weapons and other things.

The thought crossed my mind that perhaps he might apprehend a female. Maybe she would like it. Maybe he would like her struggling, if she was pretty. Maybe he wouldn't even notice that. I could imagine a woman trying to grind her ass back into him as he patted her down. He would be embarrassed and push her away, flush against the car. I think she would like that. His big, strong hands subduing her. I would like it. I would love it.

Of course, while researching my bodily changes, I also discovered masturbation and sex. Though I had gotten "the talk" from my mother (which was very unsettling), by then I already knew more than the basics. I know about homosexuality and what men could do together and how they did it. I was reluctant to think that I was gay, because I didn't look at men that way, but I couldn't say that I wasn't because I couldn't deny the fact that I fantasized about my Dad. I was fantasizing about him right now.

In my perverted mind the girl against the car was slowly morphing into a younger person with less shape, slightly shorter hair, not as tall. I already knew what the person would look like when I was done.

I knew that the level of my perversion was practically outrageous for a boy my age, who grew up in such a sheltered environment with a naïve father and overprotective mother. The internet is no place for a child, I would admit that, but I never regret that I found it. I would never regret learning all about sex and attraction because if I hadn't, I would be one confused and tortured young boy. I had long since accepted that fact that I was as perverted as they came. I was what they call a closet pervert. No one knew it. My parents had no clue the things their little boy had seen. Though I was a virgin in body, I certainly wasn't in mind.

So when the image in my head turned to me being held against the car while being patted down, I welcomed it with a naughty smile. Dad was being nice with the lady, gently pushing her forward and sparingly patting her down, but with me he was shoving me roughly, twisting my arms behind my back like I had done something wrong. And he was doing it with tremendous ease. I was a criminal and he was a police officer, it was his duty to teach me a lesson about committing crimes.

He held me down with one large hand around my smaller wrists and I could imagine that the tightness of his hand on me hurt. I would be able to feel the heat of his body, his breath against my neck as he leaned forward to read me my rights. _You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law... _Then the cold metal of cuffs would replace his hands and he would proceed to search my pockets.

In reality, I scooted up onto my knees as my hand strayed down to my lap and I fondled myself through my slacks. I was hard already and my fantasy was just heating up. The cop molesting me wasn't my father. He was, but in my mind he wasn't. I was a dirty young criminal and he was a hot officer from whom I was struggling to escape. I pleaded with him that I wouldn't do it again if he let me go.

"Yeah, I bet you won't," he said clearly in my father's voice. He backed away and told me not to move, that he was calling for a tow truck. I was going to jail. I did the first thing I could think of when he let me go. As soon as he made it to his car, I ran the other way. Nobody else was walking around. There were a few cars, but they were too far away to be of any use.

I had to unzip my pants. My cock was straining against them and it hurt. I quickly undid them, snatched them past my butt and pulled it out. Spitting on my hand, I worked up a slick lube and began jacking. I closed my eyes and he was running after me and gaining fast. I was a speedy little fugitive, but not speedy enough. He caught me and yanked me by the arm so hard that I fell to the ground in the middle of the street.

"Fugitive attempted to flee on foot and has been apprehended," he growled into his walkie talkie. He was obviously upset that I had tried to run. As he forced me to the ground and dug his knee into my side to keep me there, in my bed I squeezed my cock and stroked faster.

"Mm, yes, Officer," I moaned quietly. So far, I'd only had a handful of fantasies this hot.

After he finished speaking into his walkie talkie, he put it on his hip and used both hands to flip me on my stomach so that I couldn't kick him. When he stuck his hand under me and pulled me to my knees, he brushed against my aching dick and I couldn't contain the moan, both in my head and in reality.

Officer Son froze for a second and touched me there again, as if to confirm what he was feeling. He actually squeezed my penis and then brought both of his arms up and around my neck in a submission hold.

"Are you getting turned on by this?" he asked me. I thought the answer was obvious seeing as how I was so hard it felt like my dick was gonna break and he must have felt it.

My head fell forward against the pillow and I groaned. Damn this fantasy was hot. I've always had a vivid imagination and this was the best use I could put it to!

I whimpered out loud and in my daydream as he unwound one arm from around my neck and jerked my head back by my hair.

"You think this is supposed to turn you on?" he hissed in my ear and I could about feel his breath on me. My hand speed up and I had to stuff my face into the pillow to keep my voice down. Dad's room was at the end of the hall and mine was near the stairs and I hadn't heard him come up yet, but then again I was almost completely engrossed in my fantasy so if he did come up I didn't want him to hear me.

Back in the street, I shook my head weakly at Officer Son, trying to convince him that I wasn't turned on even though I obviously was. His arm tightened around my neck and I tried to gasp in a breath before he cut off my air supply but I nearly choked when he reached down and mauled my dick with the hand that was in my hair.

"You're going to jail," he murmured in a low, suddenly husky voice. "And it doesn't seem like you want to, because you tried to escape. So am I to take this—" he squeezed me and I about swooned "to mean that you'd like to explore... _other _options?"

"Nnngh, Dad!" I moaned, biting into my pillow. What a picture I must have made, in my bed with my pants down, ass up, head down, jerking off with my mouth full of cotton. I was very close to orgasm and the fantasy wasn't going to catch up the way I wanted it to. I didn't care.

"Uh, uh, uh, a-ahhh!" I panted. I wanted to make it last, but it was just so good that I decided that I wouldn't wait this time. I moaned his name three more times and I was finished. I all but screamed into my pillow when I came all over my blanket.

"Oh Goooodd!" My cry was nearly swallowed by the fluffy pillow and I shook, grinding my hips into my hand as stars exploded behind my eyes. As I gasped and moaned I hoped against hope that I wasn't being too loud. I would experienced the very opposite of an orgasm if Dad caught me.

I caught my breath and rolled over onto my back, avoiding the mess I'd made. I had to do laundry anyway.

I heard footsteps outside my door as he walked past my room on the way to his and froze for a moment, hoping he wouldn't come in. He didn't just walk into my room, he knocks, but sometimes, when he thinks I'm not doing anything or just homework, he'll just open the door and come in. That didn't bother me usually, but it would now.

The image of him walking around in his uniform made me lick my lips.

Eventually I got up and stripped the sheets and blankets off and put them on the bathroom floor. I took my clothes off and threw them in the hamper for a quick shower before dinner. I soaped myself, fought the urge to jack off again, rinsed, got out, dried myself, threw the towel in with the rest of the dirty clothes and stuffed my soiled blanket in on top.

When I was dressed in clean house clothes, I picked up the bag out of the basket and got to the top of the stairs when I stopped. I do my own laundry, and he does his, but he does his on the weekend like I usually do, but on Sunday. Sometimes I do it during the week if miss it on Saturday. What with his new job, I wondered if he would have time to do it on Sunday.

I decided that I was gonna just ask him.

I walked down the hall to his room, being sure to make a lot of noise just in case. I softly knocked on his door and held my breath (I didn't know why).

"Dad?"

He immediately opened the door. He was in his usual house apparel and I could smell that he had recently taken a shower. I tried not to inhale the scent of him underneath the soap as I shifted my head to indicate to the laundry bag.

"I'm washing clothes and I was seeing if maybe you wanted me to throw some of your things in with mine since you might be busy with work this weekend?" I assumed he would be busy with work, which is why I ended it as a question.

He glanced down at the bag and turned to look around his room. Then he walked away from me. I wasn't sure if I should follow him into his room or wait but before I could make that decision, he came back with a small bag of his own.

"Sure, son, I got some things here that could use washing now. Thanks," he said, dumping them into my open arms.

He smiled at me, and I knew I was about to blush at the sight of his teeth and dimples so I muttered "You're welcome," and quickly turned to go.

He didn't close his door immediately and I walked faster, thinking maybe he was looking after me for some reason. When I rounded the staircase, I head his door close and sighed in relief. I didn't even know why I should be anxious about him looking at me, but for some stupid reason I thought that every time he looked he could see my wicked thoughts about him.

The laundry room was in the basement that he built last year when Mom wanted to install a washer and dryer but didn't have the space upstairs. I was glad it was all the way down here, because I wanted to be alone when I did what I was going to do. I put all of my clothes in the large washer and began to unload his carefully, sifting through the t-shirts and socks. I relinquished two pairs of his boxers and quickly stuffed the rest in the washer. I looked behind me and listened for a second to see if he was downstairs or coming down and when I confirmed silence, I stared down at his underwear.

There they were, in my hands, two pairs of his worn boxers. It felt like I had gold in my hands, I was so excited. I put them down for a second to pull my pants down to my knees and turned around to lean against the dryer. I picked up one pair, turned them inside out and buried my face in the crotch, inhaling deeply.

"Oh my Goood," I sighed. They smelled _so_ good. They smelled like sweat, man, and soap. I grabbed hold of my cock for the second time today and slowly worked my hand up and down, moaning into the thin fabric of Dad's underwear. I took the other pair and sniffed it, too. My dick gave a hard throb and pre-cum gushed out of my tip when I detected the faint scent of piss. I was such a nasty boy and I knew it. I loved it.

There I was standing there with my father's underwear in my face and my dick in my hand. Some would call me a sick individual, but those people didn't have my Dad's underwear in their hands, so. And it was okay that I was naughty, I mean, nobody knew. I wasn't hurting anybody and Dad would never find out.

"Mmm," I slowly opened my mouth and stuffed the crotch of his boxers inside. My eyes rolled back in bliss. I took the other pair and inhaled the scent while I groaned around the other pair, tugging my cock as fast as I dared. I felt like I was drowning in piggish ecstasy as I sucked on the crotch of the worn fabric and reached down to play with my balls.

"Yesh, yesh!" I huffed around it. I rose up on the balls of my feet as my orgasm got closer. When it hit, I covered my dick with his boxers, threw my head back, and blew my load all over them.

"Uhhg, uurgghh, yesh, yesh Dad, shhhiiit!" I growled and gasped as quietly as I could. My hips slammed forward and I came so hard that I was sobbing in tearless ecstasy. All my limbs shuddered and tensed as I shot my boy-jizz into my father's underwear the hardest I ever had in my life. The waves of pleasure just kept coming with a force so strong I crumpled to my knees and the boxers slipped from my mouth.

After a few minutes of heavy breathing, I collected myself from the floor and put Dad's cum-dripping underwear into the washer, poured some soap in and turned it on. Then I headed back upstairs to pretend like I wasn't down there jacking off and hoped he didn't ask me what took so long.

He was in the living room watching television and I sat down to join him.

"Hi," he said, giving me a brief, perfect grin.

"Hey, Dad." Dinner wasn't for another half hour or so and since Mom left I had been cooking for the two of us. I picked up several things from watching her in the kitchen and was sure to learn all of my father's favorite dishes. Whenever I made something he liked, the smile he gave me was always like a high-wattage light bulb, so bright and radiant that I smiled all night knowing that I did something to make him so happy. I wasn't on Mom's level yet, but my cooking was better than what we would have been eating otherwise. Breakfast was my favorite thing to make, because it was easy and quick and I believed that I rivaled my mother in that department. Dad loved my breakfast meals and I was always looking online for new recipes to please him.

But tonight, like some nights, I didn't feel up to cooking. If he asked me to, of course, I wouldn't say no, but he always told me that I really did too much for him and that I deserved a break sometimes.

"Can we go out somewhere, or did you want me to cook tonight?" I asked, kind of hoping he said no. He flipped through the channels for a few moments and didn't answer me right away. Then he shrugged and put the remote down, settling on an animated sitcom.

"I guess we can eat out tonight," he replied. Because we practically lived way out in the middle of the wilderness, delivery was not an option. I instantly got excited. We very rarely went out to eat when Mom was still around, and this would be the first time I ever went out to eat with him alone.

Like a date, I thought to myself.

He continued, "Do you have any particular place you know of that we could go?"

I went to school in the city and saw a few places that I thought looked good and told him what kind of food they served. But he had a hard time choosing because he liked almost every kind of food and in the end I ended up picking and making reservations at a French restaurant a few blocks from my school. It was in the classier part of the city, so I told him that we should wear something nice.

Of course, the nicest thing he owned was what he wore this morning and I wore one of the many suave little outfits Mom had bought me. I made sure to look extra good and put my silver earring in and brushed my hair until it shone like silk. The thing that made it look real good was my hair. I grew it out over the years and now it comes just past my shoulders. I parted it in the middle, and it fell down the sides of my face, hiding my earring. I wondered if Dad would notice it and what he would say.

I had gotten it last year and kept it hidden until I thought I could get away with it. I'd also gotten a tattoo earlier this year in February on my right shoulder blade that was my Dad's full name in English. Nobody I knew that had seen it school knew what it said and nobody asked. I remembered feeling like an obsessive little groupie when I got it, but I was so excited that I didn't care.

Spraying on some cologne I bought myself recently, I gave my sexiest smile to the mirror and winked.

As far as I was concerned, this was date.

I waltzed into the kitchen like I was worth a million and watched with satisfaction guaranteed as Dad looked up at me and stopped what he was doing to stare. Oh yeah.

"Wow, son, you look great!" he complimented and I flashed him the same mega-watt grin he always gave me and stood next to him.

"You really think so, Dad?" I asked innocently, playing like I didn't know I looked good. I was wearing a casual, thin black blazer with a smoky midnight blue shirt, red tie, and black, sharply pressed slacks that hugged me in all the right places since I had grown into it. Black and red shoes completed my look and I thought that all in all I was a fine package.

"Yeah, look at my little boy the stud!" he teased. I smirked cockily and gave him a quick once over, trying not to look too impressed.

"You look good, too, Dad," my eyes wandered briefly up and down his tall frame.

"Really good." I looked him up and down, then straight into his eyes and smiled.

"Thank you. Well then, lets go before we're late." I was glad he missed the way I followed up on my compliment.

Because we were wearing such nice things, we couldn't let our looks be tussled by the wind so we took Dad's hover car and I stepped smartly into the passenger's side. I'd never sat in the passengers side before. Mom always thought that children belonged in the back seat, but I wasn't a child and I was dying to be close to him. This would be the third time I'd ever seen him drive and now I was going to see it up close. I didn't know why, but the thought of him driving kind of turned me on. He looked in at me and got into the driver's seat. I watched every move he made.

"Do you think you're a bit over-dressed?" he asked and that surprised me. Did he not like the way I looked?

"Uh..." I didn't really think I was over-dressed and I couldn't say that I had dressed this way to get his attention. "No. I just thought that since you look so nice, that I should try to look as good." Of course I failed by default because no one could look as good as he did. When he chuckled I blushed and slouched a little in my seat. Maybe I should have worn something simpler.

"Hey, it's alright, but I think you'll make an old man like me look kind of weathered and out of style dressed like that."

I was immediately at his defense. "No, Dad, you look very handsome. You'll be the one dropping jaws and turning heads out there." At least, he dropped my jaw and turned my head. "They'll barely notice I'm there." Which I didn't care about, because he would notice and all of them would be jealous that they weren't sitting with him and I was.

He smiled and I decided to continue. "And you could stop a girl's heart with that smile." Almost instantly I wished I hadn't said that. We had never discussed him looking for another woman since Mom left and I didn't mean to sound like I was implying that he would even be looking for a woman's affections tonight.

The smile slipped off of his face as he shifted the gear into 'rise'. "I'm not going there to look for women, Gohan. I'm going to have dinner with my son and nobody is going to interrupt that."

My heart warmed when he said that. He shifted the gear into 'run' and we were off. I found myself watching his hands as he drove. They were big and held the wheel in a firm, controlled grip. My God, I wondered if he held his dick that way. In a few minutes I was staring at his face from the corner of my eye. Man, he looked so good.

We were driving in plain dark wilderness for about a half an hour before we could see the city lights below us. We passed a sign saying 'Welcome to Satan City' with Mr. Satan's mug on it. When we entered the city, we dropped down and slipped into an open slot in traffic to drive on the ground. Dad knew where my school was and I gave directions every once in a while to help us get to the restaurant.

When we got close I saw that it was called '_Lenape's_'. We pulled up in front of a valet and Dad gave the waiting man his keys and it wasn't long before people were looking at us. Dad was wearing an all black suit without a tie and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, not quite the way he left this morning. Unlike me, he looked completely causal, as if he belonged in the suit and I looked like I was going to a wedding.

"Sir?" The Maitre d' addressed Dad as we walked inside.

"Son, reservation for two." The way he said it so smoothly, like he was used to fulfilling reservations, was kind of sexy.

The old man looked down his nose at the list, nodded to us, and led us to a table. I followed behind Dad, wishing that I had a better view of his ass. We were seated and given a menu and I could feel people staring at us. It was hard to resist the urge to glare everybody looking to ashes.

Dad didn't look like he even noticed as he scanned the menu with the most adorably confused look on his face.

"What does all this even say?" I laughed at him I couldn't help it. The entire menu was in French.

"I see the pictures, but I can't for the life of me read this stuff."

"Well, what looks good?" I asked. It would be embarrassing to point to the menu and say ' I want this' and never even know what you ordered. And the thing about French food was that a lot of it was not what it appeared. Some people didn't like to eat platters of snail. Escargot.

He pointed to something that looked like steak with red sauce covering it. I looked at my menu and said, "Filet Mignon," in what I thought was a pretty good French accent. We learned a little French in school, so I wasn't tooting my own horn.

"Well, you can order because I'll just mess that up."

After seeing a great many things I didn't think I would like, I settled for the most familiar looking thing on the menu. "I'll have what you're having."

Dad whistled. "This stuff sure is expensive!"

"French cuisine usually is, Dad," I explained and began to look around. There were all kinds of rich-looking people in this place and a few of them were wearing suits that made ours look like rags.

It felt like it took forever for our waiter to come and ask us what we wanted. As best as I could, I told him our orders and the man stared at me as I stumbled over the words. He was an older guy, maybe about thirty and the smile he was giving me was a little creepy. I thought that maybe he thought I was cute and smiled back, trying to be polite. I wasn't here to impress him, I was here to impress Dad.

He was looking around too and I was looking at him. A perverted grin crossed my face as my eyes slid down to the skin exposed by his open shirt. Two of the buttons were undone, giving him a causal, sexy look. I wondered if he knew that.

The people that were staring went back to their meals or whatever they were doing and I was happy nobody could see me openly admiring him as he looked around the expensive place while we waited for our food.

Aunty Bulma had made a special pill for us that was supposed to save money. The pills, which came in all sorts of food flavors, were supposed to make us full so that we didn't eat as much. They worked well, but Vegeta didn't like to eat them and my Dad wasn't very fond of them either. Tonight, however, we would have to take them because not only would we look like uncouth pigs eating all that we eat in a place like this, but I doubted a place like this even had that much food. I leaned forward and tapped one of his hands to get his attention.

"Dad, we should take these," I said, producing the flat little container of pills from my pocket. He looked surprised for a second before he took it from me and popped it into his mouth with a slight grimace. I didn't know what flavor his was, but mine was pancakes. Perhaps I should have looked at them before I picked them up.

The waiter returned with our food and that same creepy leer. For drinks, Dad got a glass of Chablis wine and water. I had wanted to ask if I could try some, but instead I just got some juice.

One of the last things Mom did for Dad was teach him table etiquette and I loved him and all, but I sure was glad she did. I watched the way his long fingers handled the dainty little fork and knife and I knew that he hated eating with them. The knife fell twice and a glance at his face showed his unhappiness with it. I almost giggled but I was afraid to upset him.

I myself had years worth of etiquette so cutting my filet mignon into pieces was effortless. We ate in silence until I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Do you like it?" I asked. He looked up, his mouth full of food and shrugged.

Swallowing, he said "It's okay."

I thought it was okay too, not exactly worth its weight in gold, but it was pretty good. He liked Mom's cooking better and even though she wasn't at home to cook for us, sometimes she sent me home with capsules of food for us to enjoy. She still lived alone and I was beginning to wonder when she would replace Dad and start cooking for another man.

As we ate, my mind drifted back to the sexy police uniform he wore earlier and how bad it turned me on. My cock rose a little at the memory of how the clothes fit him, and-

"I have a surprise for you tomorrow," he said, interrupting my thoughts. I was about to ask what it was, but then it wouldn't be a surprise so I just told him that I couldn't wait (I really couldn't) to see it.

As long as it didn't come with breasts and a vagina, I wanted to see it. I don't know what I would do or how I would feel if he brought a woman home. Admittedly, I wondered when he would and was relieved everyday that he didn't.

We finished our food quickly, seeing as there wasn't much to it and waited for the weird man to come with the check. Dad didn't talk much the whole time, like I said, he really never did talk as much as people thought. If he was excited about something, he could give you an earful, but he never talked too much and I always liked to hear his voice.

This time, when the man came to hand us our check, I didn't look at him and when Dad went for his wallet, I already had mine out.

"I got this, Daddy." His eyebrow rose up under his bangs in surprise that I was footing the bill for this expensive meal. I smiled broadly and handed the waiter the money without even looking at him, as if to say 'this is the man I'm here for, so just take my money and do your job'.

"Thanks, son, you didn't have to do that. By the way, where did you even get all that money?" Unlike some of the kids I knew from school, I didn't get an allowance. Mom always complained that we didn't have enough money for that and that my appetite would suffice as my allowance so I never got money to save up.

"Sometime I do work for Bulma and I tutor on Tuesday, Wednesdays, and Thursdays and I've been saving for two years, so I had more than enough to take you out." He looked a little amazed that he didn't know these things about me.

_'Oh Daddy,'_ I thought, _'There are a lot of things you don't know about me'_. And it should stay that way.

"Man, I'm really out of the loop. If you were living a double life, I wouldn't even know it," he said.

I was living a double life. As a little pervert who lusted after his father.

"That's sad," he went on. "I guess we don't talk much, huh?" I didn't say anything, I just stood and pushed in my chair.

"Maybe we can talk when we get back-

"I'm going to bed when we get back. Maybe tomorrow?" I gave my most hopeful look and he looked disappointed. Seriously though, I was tired and it wasn't like we'd have much to talk about anyway.

"Besides, you should get some sleep. Don't you work tomorrow?" He didn't tell me that he did, but I was hoping like hell that I was right.

"Oh yeah," he replied. Tomorrow I would get to see him in his uniform again and I was hoping to rush the night along and get some sleep and hope I could catch him before he left the house.

"What time do you go to work?"

"The same time you leave for school. I work everyday but Sunday this week and they said that I would get a schedule tomorrow. I'm hoping I don't work too late, because for six days a week I won't see you."

I nearly 'awww'ed that he wanted to spend time with me, even if we didn't really spend a lot of time together anymore since Mom left. I wanted to do so many things with him and with school being out for the summer in another three weeks, I was going to suggest camping or hunting. Now he had a job and I was happy for him, but he would probably be working the whole summer.

On a happier note, he left the same time I did, so there was little to complain about for now.

Laughing, I asked, "Hey, Dad, when are you going to let me drive?" I had wanted to drive it the moment I saw it. It was a cool-looking ride, red, shiny, the works. He laughed with me and then golden words left his lips.

"You can drive to the city limit until we have to fly, then I'll take us home." I turned a few heads when I jumped up and shouted, "Thanks, Dad! You are soo awesome!" but I didn't care. When we got outside to the valet to get the car, Dad told the guy to give the keys to me. I took them reverently and ran around to the driver's seat.

Dad sat in the passenger's side and showed me how to put the key in the ignition and turn it. I had a face-splitting smile on the whole time he pointed to the speedometer and shift stick and explained how to check my mirrors and adjust the seat. I tried to pull the seat up, but I couldn't find the lever so he reached across my lap, put his hand on my thigh and pulled it up for me.

His hair tickled my nose, but I barely noticed because all I could think about was that his hand was on my thigh. I held my breath while he located the lever and tried to keep myself from getting hard and then he rose up and sat back and I let out a relieved sigh. My nerves were shot and when I started the car up, I put too much pressure on the gas pedal, making him grab my hand, which was on the stick shift. I was so scared I stomped on the brakes.

"Whoa, slow down, son! Ease your foot down. It's all about gently and slowly taking your foot off the brakes and on the acceleration pedal. You aren't ready to go that fast yet." He didn't sound scared or upset at me but I felt like I disappointed him and that made me almost get out and tell him that I didn't want to do it anymore.

"Let's try it again," he said softly, nodding. I took a breath and tried again. The car slowly rolled out from between two other cars and I turned the wheel to the left until I was straight across from the exit.

"Okay, now stop and wait for an opening in traffic and turn right. There's a stop sign at the end of the block." I was trying hard to keep my arms and legs from shaking but I could feel my stomach jumping. I was so nervous and terrified of wrecking the car and making Dad mad at me, but at the same time, I really wanted to learn and make him proud.

The city limits weren't far and we got there with no more mistakes. Dad took us home while talking to me about driving. He seemed excited, like maybe he wanted me to start driving and told me I did good for my first time. Of course, I asked him when I could do it again and he chuckled that handsome chuckle and said that I could whenever we had the time. I couldn't stop smiling.

At home I went to my room and changed my clothes so that I could join Dad for a night cap of watching TV before I went to bed. I had stared at him nearly the whole way home out of the corner of my eye but I loved to sit on the couch with him and I got to watch him more openly than usual because his attention would be on the television and mine would be on him. The best part was that he only wore a t-shirt and his boxers when he watched TV before bed. I always tried to sneak a peek in the hole in the front but he always sat so annoyingly proper that I was never blessed with the view.

For me, wearing just boxers would be suicide. There was usually a pretty substantial chance that I would pitch wood as I stared at him or fantasized about him. If I'm not too interested in what we're watching, and I'm usually not, and if I wasn't watching him, and I usually am, I would space off and into spicy, softcore fantasies about the two of us together.

We watched a movie I had never seen before from my Dad's rather scant DVD collection because there was nothing better on but I was definitely in fantasy world. In my fantasy, I imagined that he would flirt with me, saying things that could potentially be misconstrued as innuendo and because I was a dirty little perv I always caught on to his little hidden meanings. We never went beyond flirting but that alone made my insides warm and sent a little blood flowing to my cock.

Every once in a while Dad would laugh, and after the first few times of hearing him do it, I would look to see what he was laughing at and for about thirty seconds I sat there and was completely innocent, just a boy watching TV with his Dad. We watched TV until Dad told me it was time for bed and I stood up and yawned.

"So," he said, "How was the movie?"

"It was good," I said, lying. I hadn't even grasped the plot. It was all just a blur of people dressed like animals and God knew what else.

Then I did something I've never done before. I don't know why I did it or what possessed me, but I bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Dad." I didn't want to stay and see his reaction so I briskly left the room and went upstairs

to brush my teeth and go to bed.

The next morning, I practically jumped out of bed so that I could make breakfast and see Dad in his uniform again. He probably wasn't downstairs yet, it was only 5:30 and I left for school at 7:30 so that gave me two hours to wash up, get dressed, and make enough food for an army. As I said before, we don't really like those pills and I liked seeing Dad enjoy food, especially when I cooked it.

I heard him before he reached the bottom of the stairs just as I finished setting the table. "Wow, smells great as usual, son!" When he walked in, I quickly sat down.

"You look great in your uniform, Dad," I commented. A completely innocent comment.

"Thanks, son. It looks like you made quite a spread," he said, surveying all the food I made.

"You know I had to put in the works for your first day at your new job." Not only did I cook more than usual, but I made some delicious foreign dishes that I had never made before. I learned to make it in Home Economics class and everyone there praised it as some of the most delicious dishes they had ever tasted. I couldn't wait until he sat down and took a bite. All the while I was trying not to make it obvious that I was checking him out since he walked into the kitchen.

"Where's my surprise?"

He stopped as he was about to sit in his seat and looked at me, confused. "What surprise?" I rolled my eyes.

"The surprise you said you have for me last night when we went out to dinner." He can be such a space-case sometimes.

"Ohhh, sorry I forgot about that. Actually, you'll see it when I get home from work." Ah, so it wasn't some thing I was going to _get, _it was something I was going to _see. _After seeing him in his uniform, I don't know what could be a better surprise other than seeing him naked.

I had an excuse for closely examining his face as he bit into one the mini breakfast meat pies with ham, bacon, and buttered grits inside. It felt good to see his face light up when he tasted something that he liked and even better to hear his praise.

"Uum! Gohan, this is delicious!" he exclaimed and enthusiastically began to eat the food. He didn't wolf it down, because that would have stained his uniform, but he was clearly in a rush even though I was sure he had more time than he was letting on. He said that he would leave when I did, and I recalled that 'we' had fifteen whole minutes to enjoy our breakfast.

So I asked, "Why are you in such a rush, Dad? You said you were gonna leave when I did."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, "But I was going to stop off at Capsule Corp."

I was about to ask for what, but it was probably none of my business so I just grunted and went back to my meal. Every once in a while I would look up to watch him eat and enjoyed how much it looked like he was enjoying it. I could think of many other things I could do for him that he would enjoy.

Suddenly, he stood and walked into the living room. Returning with his utility belt, he buckled it around his waist and I continued to eat, acting as if I wasn't looking. As he walked to the door, which was behind me, I got a brief glance of the way his pants snugly hugged his delicious-looking crotch.

"Can you clear the table for me and load the dishwasher, son? I gotta go now. I'll see you later." He kissed me on the forehead and was out the door, leaving me alone in the house. I frowned a bit, not because I had to clean up, but because we didn't leave at the same like I thought we would. But that was okay, because whatever surprise he had for me would make up for it. It took me another five minutes to clear the table, store the food I didn't finish in the fridge, and put the dishes in the dishwasher.

* * *

That thing they say about time going slow when you're waiting for something you're excited or anxious about? It's true.

I couldn't wait to get home and see what my surprise was, but it felt like my class periods went on for eons. When lunchtime came around, it was the halfway point of my day and by that time I began to think about how much longer I would have to wait after I got home. I still had to pay Mom my daily visit and tell her the news of Dad's new occupation and how he had let me drive and how we had went out to eat and I'd probably talk her ear off, but she was always happy to see me. She and Dad didn't part on terrible terms, but one wouldn't be quick to say she was the most considerate person about it.

"Hey Mom, guess what?" I stated when I barged into her home without knocking like I usually did. I should have, considering she could be in there with some guy doing things I never wanted to see but I always came around this time, so she more or less expected me.

She came from her kitchen and like usual, I ran into her arms like an innocent child (which I was not!) and proceeded to fill her in on the latest details.

She laughed and rubbed my head, "Slow down sweetheart, I'm trying to comprehend everything at once. So," she sat down on the couch and patted the space beside her. I was almost too excited to sit, but I plopped down anyway and started jabbering again. She nodded at everything I said, then held a hand up.

"It's amazing how when I suggested he get a job, it was always 'Aww, ChiChi!' but suddenly the thought comes to him as an epiphany four years later. Had time for the animals, but no time for a job." She didn't sound bitter, a little wistful, but somewhat amused, like it was something she expected from him.

She hadn't actually fared as well as Dad the first year of their divorce and there was a time when I thought she would never get over it but the only thing that worried me more than that was the fact that she didn't seem to have any other prospects as far as dating. Neither of them did. One day I'd asked her that, why hadn't she remarried or at least got a new boyfriend.

She told me that it wasn't that easy and that really, she wanted Dad but it wasn't fair to either of them that she couldn't fulfill her duties as his wife and vice versa. She had had a few boyfriends, but that it wasn't the same.

"Once you're a Saiyan's wife, you never really go back to normal." I don't know what normal was for her, but I was still glad that she seemed content.

"Yeah, Mom, well, he probably just wants to feel useful seeing as there hasn't been any threats to Earth in about a year. I think this'll be good for him." I knew I was making an excuse for him, but I didn't want to tread into the somewhat forbidden waters of the real issue of their divorce. And of course I wondered about his sex-drive. All the time.

"So, does it excite you that he's a police officer now?" It sure did, but not the way she was inferring.

I said, "Yeah. It's kind of awesome, but when you've seen him fight, it's really like a hobby or something." I didn't know. I just liked the outfit that came with the job.

"I've never cared too much about that fighting. At least he's not in danger out there, or putting you in danger." She had never really forgiven him for allowing me to fight Cell and coming home looking like I'd gone through hell and back. And she never exactly thanked him either. Or me.

I spent the next five hours at her place and left at eight. "Later, Mom!" Maybe when I got home, he would be there with that sexy outfit and my surprise.

Though I took my time, I still got home and he wasn't there yet. I guess I was just going to have to wait. To kill time, I gathered the laundry, folded it and put mine in my room and his in a basket in front of his room door, then, after distributing the towels to the linen closet in the hallway, I engrossed myself in a book in my room.

I don't know how long I was reading before I heard his voice call my name. I threw the book across the room and ran to my door. When I got there, I quickly composed myself and calmly went downstairs.

"I'm in the living room!" he called and I went. I came in and saw him standing there with a smile. My eyes quite nearly fell out of my head.

"Holy shit," I murmured. I didn't mean for it to come out, but if you were in my place you might have reacted the same way. I was FLABBERGASTED. He was wearing his entire uniform including the hat, which couldn't fit him this morning.

"Woah, language, son," but he chuckled. I couldn't stop staring if someone paid me to.

He took the hat off. "Do you like it? They wanted me to wear the hat, too, so...I went to see Bulma this morning and she cut my hair for me. I don't know about it, it's so different."

All I could do was gulp.

He cut his hair.

I just...he cut it. It was...it was gone. Well, not 'gone' but it was short. And it was _terribly_ sexy.

I felt like I needed to go back to my room. I felt like I needed air. This couldn't even be happening. It was really bad enough that he was sexy to begin with. Okay, fine. The outfit was stunning, and I jacked off twice to that, so that was fine because I had to deal with it anyway. But come on, not this, too! It was driving me fucking crazy how bad I wanted him and I couldn't have him because he was my Dad and now every time I looked up, he did something that made me even more attracted to him. Why was this happening to me? Why did he and Mom have to divorce? Why did he have to be so frigging sexy?

Why did I decide to live with him instead of Mom and keep my sanity? Oh yeah, because I love him like crazy. Damn it.

"Um..." Great. No words. He ran a hand through his shorter hair and gave me an uneasy smile, afraid that I wouldn't like it. Not that my opinion mattered and not that I would ever tell him what my opinion really was.

It wasn't so short, but shaved shorter in the back and sides with more hair at the middle and top. It wasn't a buzz cut or anything and his hair was still thick, just shaved closer to his head and all those wild, spiky lock were gone. The top was already tussled because of his hat and I'm afraid that gave him a 'just got out of bed' look. I hated my life.

"You don't like it," he said more than asked.

I stuttered through an answer, something like "Uh...no...it's...um...ahem...well, you know...it—it... it's nice, ahem, and..." And that was all I could get out. It was nice. It looked good. Bulma had done an awesome job.

"Well, I didn't want to cut it, but it was a small price to pay to keep the job. Let's sit so I can tell you about my day."

Sit? On that suddenly very tiny couch? Next to him? That close?

"I don't know..." I muttered uncertainly, giving the couch a cautious glance.

Dang it! WHY did I say that? Of course I wanted to hear about his day! I cringed when the words left me and the confused expression came across his face.

"What?"

"N-nothing!" I countered hastily. I quickly went and sat on the couch and made sure to grind myself into the corner-most part of the cushions so that we didn't touch when he sat. It was a wasted effort. He sat close to me and put his arm around me. My face exploded into heat and I went completely rigid in his hold. Dad was not by any means a touchy-feely guy and we didn't hug often (well, I tried, but he didn't always hug back) so this was fuel on the fire.

"It's okay if you don't like it, son, I won't be upset. I want to know exactly what you think of all this. Of me getting a job, and not being around as much and the, haha, the haircut. It's important to me what you think and how you feel."

Funny, I thought to myself, he didn't much care before what I thought.

I wanted to ask him to let me go, but I didn't want to upset him and have more explaining to do for my already odd behavior.

"Daddy, it's fine. I'm okay with all this. It's a lot to process"—it sure was—"but I'll get used to it. I'll just stay over at Mom's place longer after school." I should move there. Mom would love that.

He didn't let me go but didn't say anything for a while. Then he asked me if I wanted him to get a different job. Yes and no. I said no.

"I will if you want me to." No, no, Dad. If you quit I'd never see that lovely outfit again and even though it was torture, I was a little masochist and I both hated it and loved it.

"It's fine, really. I think it's cool," I said. "And if it makes you happy, then it makes me happy." At least that part was true. He hugged me closer and I just hid my blushing face in his chest. I didn't hug back, but really because of the awkward angle.

"Thanks, Gohan, that means a lot. And with this new job, maybe I can get a new car and give you this one we have ou-

"Seriously?" I shouted. I turned in his arm and looked up at his face with a smile that went from one ear to the other. I watched his face break into his beautiful smile and I jumped into his lap to hug the life out of him in my excitement. He was going to give me the car someday! I guess him having this job wasn't so bad after all!

He caught me and put both of his arms around me. "W-wow, Gohan, you're going to squeeze me to death!" He laughed and pushed me off by the ribs. I pulled away and instantly realized the position I was in. On his lap. Straddling him. I could do little but stare at at the apex of our conjoined bodies. I also noticed how uncomfortable it was because he still had his utility belt on and his gun and notepad were pressing against the insides of my thighs. Instead of jumping off his lap like lightning I chanced a look back up at his face to see the smile he had slowly faltering. I slowly got off of him.

"So, you'll have to teach me to drive better so I can get my permit. I can't get my license until I'm sixteen anyway, but at least I'll be able to drive in the daytime. Then, when you give me the car, I'll be ready to drive it." I grinned at him and both enjoyed and dreaded the confused but curious look on his face.

"Well how was your first day, Dad? Did you get to arrest anyone? Did you use your handcuffs?" I wanted to know who the lucky lady or bastard was that got that wonderful treatment.

He had just been staring at me since I had climbed off of his lap and blinked twice when I asked the question. "Uh...oh...well, yeah, actually. I got to arrest a lot of people. Man, I had no idea Satan City had so much crime! Three bank robberies, a bunch of muggings, and Mr. Satan needed protecting though I don't know why...then I had traffic duty, and for some reason there were a pack of women and girls and people just gathered around to, I don't know, but they were watching me I guess. But I was just doing my job and a few of them tried to talk to me and...other things I'd rather not mention. But I guess they like policemen or something. But they don't do it to the others. Maybe it's because I'm new."

I started to laugh. It was cute how naïve he was.

"Well, Dad, that might have something to do with the fact that you're gorgeous. People are gonna stare at a person who looks that good." Especially in that uniform. Such a great opportunity to tell him that.

His face was priceless. He looked like that was news to him. Was I the first person that ever told him that outright? I didn't know how he was going to take it, but as they say; what's done is done and can't be undone.

"Um...ahem...you think that was the reason? I mean, I am a new guy and all, and you know I did have a very high success rate today. Maybe I'm like a superstar."

I chuckled again. "Those fan girls always go after the sexy ones. Your coworkers will be jealous and those girls, well, get used to them because I'm sure you'll be seeing them on a daily basis. You're fresh meat, Dad, hahaha!"

Then, out of the blue he said, "So that's why you stare at me so much." I stopped laughing and my mouth dropped open like an idiot. Shit.

I pulled as far away from him as I could and when I found that nowhere was far enough, I got up and sat in the loveseat adjacent to him.

"I'm not a fangirl," was all I could say to defend myself. Why did I have to open my big mouth and say all that stuff to him? God, he probably thought I was a weirdo.

Both his eyebrows were raised in surprise that I would just get up and move away from him like I had.

"It's not what you think." Oh, but it was.

"What do you think I think it is and what is it supposed to be?"

I was a little dumbfounded by the way he'd asked me that question and how fast he got it out after I spoke.

"W-what?" Smooth.

"What do you think I think it is and what is it supposed to be?" That time he repeated it slower, as if talking to a child younger than myself. I was hoping he would simplify that request so that I could possibly find out what he was hinting at asking me something like that. The last time I checked, he was pretty naïve. He didn't seem so naïve now.

"Well, Dad, it's a fact, that's all. I mean, you're attractive. Like grass is green. Nobody knows why, that's just how it is." I shrugged. I didn't know why.

"I want you to come back over here and sit next to me."

Aw man, I did NOT want to go back over there. That was the last thing I wanted to do!

"Um...why?" I meekly croaked. I was scared. What had I done? Why couldn't I just keep it to myself? Shit, if he was smart enough to ask that question like that then he was smart enough to know why those girls were there watching him. His problem seemed to be nothing more than a mild case of modesty.

"Because. Come here." I walked back to where he was sitting with as much confidence as I dared and sat down. I shrugged and looked at him, as if nothing was wrong and I was completely innocent of anything he might have been trying to imply.

He didn't waste any time putting his arm back around my shoulders. Pulling me closer to him, he leaned in toward me so that his face was close and level with mine, "You still haven't answered my question." he said softly.

I was sure my face belied how I shocked I was that he had leaned in so close. Dear God. What was happening? What was he doing? What was his question again?

"Um...could you ask me the question again?" I didn't know how to read his face. He wasn't smiling, frowning, grimacing, glaring, scowling, gaping, or anything, his face was the blankest I've ever seen it. That probably wasn't good.

He asked me again and with a slight frown and in turn I asked, "Do you think you could let me go? Kinda...take your arm off..."

"You don't like when I touch you?" he asked. I about died. I stared at him like he'd grown another head.

Maybe he didn't mean for that to sound so suggestive, but that was the way I heard it.

"Oh, n-no, you can touch me. I just...I need space." If I just maintained my cool, he wouldn't know anything. All I had to do to was act like this wasn't bothering me, like I wasn't scared and a little horny and I would be home free.

"Oh, yeah, well it was hot today, so I must be sweaty. Sorry about that!" He quickly let me go and rubbed the back of his newly shaven head. He was sweaty, but sweet Christmas he smelled great.

"It's not that, I just...Dad, I didn't mean anything by what I said. About...about you being good-looking and all. I mean you are, but I was just saying. Since we were talking about it." Okay. Maybe that would work.

"You know, Gohan. I may be old and a little slow, but I'm not stupid. Are you trying to tell me something?"

Fuck. Play it cool. Play it cool. Play it cool.

"Nope. What do you think I'm trying to tell you, Dad?" I gave my most disarming smile because I wasn't trying to tell him anything and I sure wasn't loosing my cool.

"Do you want me to find a girlfriend?" My jaw kind of dropped. Find a girlfriend? Why the hell would I want that?

"Dad, where did you get such a ri—

I stopped myself as soon as I realized the better question. Why would I _not _want that? I blinked and looked at the floor. I had to say this right or he'd start asking more questions and then I'd really get bitten in the ass by my own mouth.

I peered back up at him and almost groaned. It seems I didn't stop the question in time. He had this know-it-all smirk on his face and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he looked rather smug, too.

"So you want to keep me all to yourself?"

What was the harm in letting this play out? I mean, if I ever had a chance, I was doing the sensible thing and looking both ways before I crossed.

"If you found a girlfriend, that'd be cool," if whoever he found could satisfy him. "Preferably, I'd like to have you all to myself, but in order to have both, you would have bring her home with you and believe me I wouldn't make her brief stay very welcome. She'd have to jump through all kinds of loops to get me to approve."

"Because you're an expert on dating."

"The more primal aspect of it." He unwound his arm from around me and gave me disbelieving look.

"The primal aspect?" Yeah, I know, who even says that?

"Yeah," I replied. "Those ladies look at you and see overall great looks and a job and that kind of guy is right up every woman's alley. What do you think is the first thing they'll want from you? Here's a hint, it's not your heart."

He looked surprised that I sounded like I knew what I was talking about. But it was just basic psychology. I only wanted him to realize that I wasn't as innocent and unassuming as he thought. Besides, any chance to tell him how hot he is without risking harm I'll take.

"What do you know about sex, Gohan?" he asked curiously.

"Lots," I answered proudly. And no offense to him, but he didn't grow up with the lovely apparatus known as the internet, so I thought I knew more about it than he did. Well, he knew it in practice, I knew it in theory.

"Oh yeah? ChiChi must have taught you well."

"Not her," I nearly sneered. "The internet."

"She didn't have the talk with you?"

"Oh no, she did, but I already knew when she came to me with it. Besides, she didn't do a very good job." I vaguely remember her going on mostly about how I shouldn't do it until I find the girl I'm ready to give her grandchildren with. She kept referring to the act of sex as making a baby and I think she intentionally didn't mention that people can have sex for non-reproductive purposes as well.

Dad just watched me with a slightly amazed look on his face, no doubt seeing me in a new light. "So...you're not exactly the most innocent 13-year old around...?"

"Not exactly, but I'm a virgin, Dad. I can't have sex with just anyone." I couldn't have sex with him. I didn't want to have sex with anyone else. God knew when I would get over this pointless infatuation I had with him and find a girlfriend, or a boyfriend as the case might be.

"Believe me, I know that," he said. "But how did you find out about it? Do you watch pornography?"

"Oh, yes, Dad." I replied triumphantly. "I watch porn and I read about every kind of sex there is. I probably know more about sex than a lot of adults do."

"Do you think you know more about it than me?" he asked. I smirked at him. Sorry Dad.

"They didn't have the internet when you were growing up, Dad," I laughed, rolling my eyes.

"I've watched porn before," he stated matter-of-factly When he said that my eyes got wide.

"Y-you have?"

"Yeah," he said it like nobody should be surprised. I was. My innocent, naïve Dad watching other people have sex. Who would have thought. Then I remembered that he used to live with Master Roshi for a spell and goodness knows what he was exposed to there.

"Roshi always wanted me to watch it, he's the one who gave me the 'talk'. I admit, wasn't the best talk ever, but it was better than when he would buy me women so that I would 'become a man'. I think I became a man quite fine without that," he chuckled.

The thought of Dad with a hooker brought a frown to my face. "That old pervert tried to make you sleep with a hooker?"

Dad suddenly burst out laughing. "W-how do, haha, how do you know what a hooker is, son?"

"Hookers are synonymous with prostitutes, those who sell their sexual favors for a price. And there's no guarantee they'll be good, clean, or attractive, and you never know what diseases they might have. I've met some. Some have propositioned me. Some were pretty, some were not. And I would never touch them. Me and Palmela and her five friends get along just fine," I said, holding my hand up and wiggling my fingers. That made him laugh and me laugh, too.

"Okay, okay," he conceded. "So you know a bit for a kid. That's not a bad thing, actually. I have a little less to worry about now that you know the dangers of sex in addition to the benefits. Look, son, I don't want grandchildren right now, so I'm glad you're keeping it in your pants." I laughed again and patted him on the leg.

"And I don't want a brother or sister right now. Well, at least not from you and some other woman. Mom says she's thinking of adopting a kid. I think that's enough."

"Really?" I didn't know what the look on his face meant, but if I had to guess I would say he wasn't particularly excited to hear the news.

"Yeah," I said nonchalantly, "But she seems to want to do it alone."

"Your mother is crazy." That was the first time I had ever heard him say something negative about her.

"Crazy? Why?"

"She just is." And he didn't say anymore about it. It probably wasn't a good idea to probe him for more.

"Well, anyway, I give you the green light give me a sibling when I turn sixteen and move out." I thought that was funny, but by the look on his face, he didn't.

"You want to move out when you turn sixteen?" I opened my mouth and shut it again. I hadn't even thought about how that statement would affect him when I'd said it. Usually people moved out at eighteen years of age, but I was going to college (the least I could do for Mom) and I was already two grades above average in school. By the time I was sixteen, I would be ready to go to college.

"Um...yeah, Dad. I'll be going to college," I tried to say it like it was the most obvious thing but I could tell that he had never given it much thought.

"But..." he started. "But isn't eighteen the age most kids leave home?" I could hear the hope in his voice.

"Oh, well, I'm...I'm not like most kids. I'm going to graduate high school earlier than most of the other kids my age in school. When I begin my sophomore year in high school, I'll start taking entrance exams for colleges. My teachers tell me that I don't belong in the grade I'm in and that I should go for it."

I looked down at my hands in my lap and felt bad. I felt bad that we've never discussed this and just short of a mere two and a half years was pretty much all we'd have left together before I took the next step in my life. Dad was distressed and it showed. I didn't mean to spring it on him like that and if I'd known better I would have chosen a better time to tell him. And I didn't even know what a better time would have been.

He was silent for a long time. He just sat there in his uniform and he looked so worried and sad that I went to hug him. Because he was next to me, and tall, I slipped of the couch and crouched in front of him to wrap my arms around his neck. He didn't move but I hugged him as much as I could as he was bent at the waist and staring at the floor. Then I reached under his slack arms, which were on his knees

and wiggled between his legs so that I could push him up and get a better hug.

"Don't worry, Daddy. I'll come visit every weekend and I'll call everyday. I'll even write you, if you want. I won't go far, I'll always be around if you need me," I tried to reassure him. But I may have lied depending on what he thought was far. The school I had in mind was Kansai Gaidai University, which was in Hirakata City, near Osaka. Which was several little more than 116,000 miles away. That wasn't a journey for someone who could fly, but it wasn't a cakewalk, either.

My attempts at consolation didn't seem to be working.

"I know you're smart, son, but..." he stopped right there and didn't say anything else. Did he not want me to go? My heart fell at the thought. I wanted to go, but I didn't want to hurt him. And I was going on earlier about how he should be picky about women when I would go and leave him lonely. Of course he needed companionship. He wasn't going to fill the holes in his life with another kid like Mom was and the only thing worse than that was not finding a woman who could satisfy him and make him happy.

I wanted more than anything to be able to do those things for him but I couldn't. He would never go for it and if I ever made him disappointed in me, I don't know how I would live with myself. Dad wasn't a cruel man, and he wouldn't outright hurt me for the way I feel about him but I was sure he had morals. I was sure he would never give me a chance and it was probably better for me to just go when I had to. But if I was wrong, if he was so lonely that he could want me, if I didn't try, I would always regret it.

I didn't know what to else say and I didn't know what to do. I just hugged him and pressed as close as I could, burying my head in his neck. I didn't want him to be alone. Mom leaving him had hurt him and I didn't want to see him sad because of me.

I swallow. "I love you, Dad." I knelt there, hugging him and feeling like I was about to cry. He hadn't hugged me back yet and I wanted, no, needed to feel his arms around me. As I went to drag his arms around my torso, he grabbed me and hugged me so tight I gasped.

"I love you, too, son," he whispered.

I close my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his big, strong, warm arms around me and how wonderful he smelled. I knew what I wanted to say, and needed a moment to gain the courage say it. It kept occurring to me how many barriers had come down in the space of two days alone—barriers that are meant to be up between a father and his son. I was ready to drop another one.

"It's okay," I murmured and kissed the skin between his ear his collar softly. "If you want me to wait until I'm eighteen, I will. I would do anything for you, Dad. If it makes you happy, I'll do whatever. I'll go to a closer school, I'll visit as often as you want to see me, I'll—

"Thank you, son," he interrupted. "But I can't make you do that. You're growing up and there isn't anything I can or should do to stop that. It's just that it's so soon." He didn't seem to acknowledge the peck on his neck so I pressed my lips to his warm skin and sighed.

"You've always been my little boy. When you protected me against Raditz, you were so tiny and I've admired you ever since. I make you go through a lot. Sometimes I regret letting you fight Cell and I feel like your mother was right about me, but there are other times when I know that keeping you sheltered could hurt you more."

He stopped and sighed. Then, "I was never ready to be a father," he admitted.

I didn't say anything. I had always known that.

"But when you were born, I was so scared and excited and worried. Thank goodness your mother was there," he gave a dry chuckle. "I loved you from the moment I saw you and it's hard to imagine that in two years you won't be my little boy anymore. You'll be a man, and you'll find a nice girl to settle down with and give me some—

"No, Dad, don't say it—

"-grandchildren, and maybe it'll be a boy who looks just like you, and—

"Awww," I groaned into his neck. He sounded just like Mom with that.

"-he'll be pretty and nice and strong and smart, just like his father. And you'll have a family and—"

Dear God, had he just said that I was pretty?

"Dad—

"And I'll happy for you. And you'll come over for a dinner and keep a lonely man company—

"You won't be lonely—

"And maybe spar sometimes if you're not busy raising your family—

I pulled back and glared up at him. "Dad!" I snapped. His face was so close to mine I immediately began blushing.

"I'm sorry," he said, his breath ghosting over my face. "I didn't mean to ramble or get so...ahem."

"Daddy, I'll leave when I'm eighteen. I'll...work for two years or something. Please don't be so sad about this. I just want you to be happy. I would do anything for you to be happy. You're my entire world. You mean everything to me. You're the most amazing person I know. You shouldn't be lonely and you won't be. Any woman would be lucky to have you and just because Mom is gone doesn't mean you shouldn't be happy. But we're not getting any younger, Dad. Someday..."

The way he was just looking at me as I spoke was almost enough to make me cry. "Someday, yes, I will marry someone and have children. And I'll move you out to the city to live next door to us," I laughed softly.

"And when the kids get fed up with me and their mother, they can always go to the house of the most awesome person in the world, just next door." I kept smiling, my eyes gleaming as I spoke.

"And they might not come back..." I broke out in a really wide grin. "But that would be okay. Because you're a great Dad, so I'll just leave them—

"Not with me! Don't pawn your future kids off on me!" he said playfully indignant. "I'll watch them when you and the wife are at work and on the weekends, but if they turn out to be little terrors I'm not promising anything!" We cracked up together, holding on to each other as we laughed at our joking.

Hoping the sore moment had passed, I said, "Would that make you happy? If I leave when I'm eighteen?"

"Son," he sounded a little exasperated. "If you want to go at sixteen, I'll be alright by myself. I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself. I know you would be happier with that—

"I'm happier with whatever makes you happier." I stated.

"You don't have to revolve your life around what I want. You're your own person."

"Yeah, but..." It was about to get mushy again and I didn't care. "I love Mom and all, I do. But I could live if she died and couldn't come back. If you died and couldn't come back, I'm not sure I would be able to go on." It was true. If I lost him, I would probably die from grief. I would never get over it, never accept it, and never be the same without him.

"Aww, son, that's noble of you to say, but everybody has to go sometime. If my time comes sooner rather than later, I would want you to move on with your life. I'm flattered that I mean so much to you, but one day, when you have a family of your own, you'll find that nobody could compare in importance to your children, or your wife. They'll be your first priority and they deserve it."

I didn't know about that. Maybe I would change my mind, but at this point, I think I'd sacrifice my children to save him. I wasn't going to tell him that, though.

"So how much do I mean to you, Daddy?" I asked with the cutest smile I could muster.

"Everything, you know that." He rubbed my head and ran a hand through my long hair.

"You're never going to cut this, are you?" he asked.

"Do you want me to?" I returned. If he wanted it gone, I would cut it.

"I'm just asking."

"Well, I like my hair long. Besides, I don't think I would ever look as good as you do with my hair cut so short."

"So you do like it?" He smiled down at me. I was still between his legs with my arms around him, only they had slid down to his utility belt.

"Yeah, I told you I did."

"I wasn't sure you weren't just being nice."

It was sexy like hell, I thought.

"No, I don't humor people, not even you, Dad."

This made him chuckle. "But I thought you would do anything for me?" The bright grin was almost enough to make me say 'aw'. Almost.

"Okay, for you I would, but only if you ask nicely," I replied, winking at him.

"What could I ask for that you wouldn't do for me?" he asked with such a pretty smile.

I blinked at the question. In addition to just staring at him like a fool, I think I felt a stirring in my underwear. I had no clue what he was getting at, but all of my hope gathered in the center of my chest that he might have been attempting to flirt with me. And if it was like that...

"I want to say nothing, but there's always something. I'm sure there are many things you would never ask me to do, but for the most part, I could at least say virtually—relatively nothing." I wanted to elaborate on that but I wanted to find if he was about to ask me for something. Something completely not what I was thinking right then. Something not perverted.

He looked up, as if contemplating something he could ask me. I just waited with anticipation.

"Okay," he looked back down, "I don't want you to go to college."

I froze. What?

"What?"

His smile didn't falter. "Don't go. That's what I want."

My mouth dropped a little. He didn't want me to go to college? Why not? Why would he not want me to go?

"Wh—

"Because that's what I want," he said, as if it were the most simple request in the world. He stared down at me, looking serious as a heart attack.

"Uhmm..." I didn't know what to say. Did he really want that? I tried to look as uncertain as possible, so that he might rethink that request, but he just raised his eyebrows and gazed expectantly at me. Damn.

"I guess not. Don't make statements you can't back up. See how hard it really is? Part of being an adult is-

"Okay, fine. I won't go." If that was really what he wanted, then I wouldn't. I only dared to hope that he didn't want me to go because he really liked having me around. I mean, I could always get an online education. Not quite as appealing, but hey, it was better than nothing.

He actually looked surprised. "What? Really? You really won't go?"

I nodded. "No, I won't. If that's what you want, that's what I'll do." He looked at a loss for words for a minute.

"Ah...well, it didn't think you would say yes."

What? Then why did he ask?

"Why woul—

"Woah, relax," he said when he saw me start to get indignant. "I was just testing it out. I want you to go to college." And he laughed!

Damn him! Be serious!

"That isn't funny, Dad. I really would do anything, but don't yank my chain like that." Not the he had gotten my hopes up. I was happy he was joking.

"Okay. I want you to...kiss me."

"..." The blood drained from my face.

I had no words.

Then he laughed and waved his hands defensively. "I'm just kidding again!"

My face fell into a fierce scowl. I slapped his leg and quickly pushed myself to my feet. "That wasn't funny! I'm going to go make dinner, you bum!"

As I went to move he took hold on my arm. "What if I was serious?"

"..."

I thought he was serious. I would have kissed his sexy ass senseless!

"I'd have said yes."

The look on his face was priceless. It was a mixture of shock, embarrassment and something else I couldn't really identify, but it was funny.

I quickly bent and kissed his cheek and pulled away only a little so that our lips were a mere two inches or so apart. "There," I said smartly and left him sitting there and went to start dinner.

A few seconds later I could hear him get up and go upstairs to change and get ready for dinner. Dang, speaking of which, I didn't ask what he would like. Oh well, I would just surprise him. I needed to find a recipe on my computer so I was going to bring it down to the kitchen.

What would I make, I wondered as I walked upstairs. Rounding the corner, I settled on something Thai. Something a little spicy, with some—

"Oh hey, son. Since you're near the linen closet, can you throw me a towel?"

Though I was looking right at him, I almost didn't hear him.

The Gods must have been angry at me, I figured. Or very happy with me. For there there my father was standing, in his uniform pants and shoes, minus his utility belt, under which he wore a thick black leather belt. Minus his shirt. My tongue dried up at the sight.

I gawked at him. I thought the pants fit him nicely when he had his shirt on but the view was too nice with it off. There was no stopping the blood rushing down to my groin and if he saw I was probably dead on my feet.

"What's wrong, sweetheart, cat got your tongue?"

I quickly yanked the closet door open, flung him the towel and all but ran into my room to get my laptop.

"I'm making something special tonight, it's a surprise," I announced, not only ignoring his question, but trying to hide how nervous and horny I was.

Moving swiftly, I pressed the 'on' button, snatched up the cable and the computer and stalked out of my room. But when I turned around I dropped it all when I bumped into him. He easily caught the computer, but let the cord drop.

"Oops, I didn't mean to scare you," he said. Oh, like hell he didn't. What was he doing in my room anyway? What was it that he wanted to say to me that he couldn't say from where he had been standing?

"It's okay," I mumbled and tried to side-step him. To say I was astonished when he matched my step and moved in front of me would be an understatement. The blush rushed to my face and I sputtered, "W-what are you doing?"

He smiled that gorgeous smile down at me and something nudged my chest. "You were about to walk away without this," he said with amusement in his voice. I looked down. Oh.

"Um. Yeah, I was going to get it." Sometime.

"Seem to be in an awful hurry to get down there and make dinner. Or maybe I'm just making you uncomfortable." I took the laptop from him and thought the heat in my face rose a few degrees when our fingers brushed. With my eyes to the floor, I tried to side-step him again and he put his hand on my shoulder.

"You gonna get your charger, too?"

Dammit! I gave it an accusing glare. Why did it have to be all the way down there? Oh yeah, because my outrageously hot father, who still had yet to put a shirt on, scared it out of my hand, caught my laptop, and didn't bother picking it up.

"Gee, thanks, Dad," I retorted sarcastically. "How generous of you to offer to pick that up for me, seeing as you're the reason it's down there."

I wanted it, but let's face it, my room is tiny and if I knelt down in front of him, I would be too close to resist the urge stop and stare at places I should not stare at while he's watching me. I glared at him when he made no move to get it for me, with his two free hands.

"Let me ask you something." He looked curious and amused when he asked.

"You just did," I pointed out.

"Don't get cute."

"I am cute." I couldn't help it and broke into a playful smile.

"Do you think I'm sexy?"

This laptop cost my Mom (as she was sure to remind me quite often) a lot of money and upon hearing what he asked me, I promptly dropped it. It hit the floor with a heavy 'thud' but I couldn't pray for it to be okay. I was too baffled by the question.

I couldn't say anything. There was nothing to say because I realized that I couldn't even ask him or myself what gave him that I did because I did. I had said it earlier, as a comment I didn't think he would ask about. If my laptop was broken, I had only myself to blame. I couldn't say no, because I'd already said it. I could say yes and act like it was nothing, or I could be completely honest and tell him that he looked delicious. Okay, maybe not exactly that.

Like I said, my father was not a cruel man, and I got the feeling that however I answered his question he wouldn't be upset. Because I don't know if it was just me, but if we were any other two people that weren't father and son, man and boy, I would swear on a dog that, at times, we were flirting on that couch, with me on my knees between his legs. He asked me to kiss him and then said that he was joking. He could have asked anything else, but he asked that. And he didn't specify where. Maybe...I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but maybe he wanted me to kiss him. On the lips.

I shrugged, my face was still hot. "Is this about what I said earlier?" He didn't say anything, just kind of smiled a little and waited for a real answer. Okay...

"Fine. I do. I think you're sexy as hell. Happy?"

"I have another question."

"Aw, come on, Dad!" I whined. Hadn't he embarrassed me enough?

"Do you like the way I look in my uniform?"

Okay, this was definitely going somewhere.

I was going to take the plunge because it seemed like the right thing to do and I couldn't ignore that he had an impish but tiny smirk on his lips that couldn't possibly mean he was joking or distressed. My heart thudded almost painfully in my chest. After all the times I had masturbated to him, could I really have a chance to experience those fantasies in reality?

"Yeah," I answered with my head down. I just didn't know what to do.

I couldn't look at him anymore. I was rapidly losing my nerve and if he really was appalled by all that I had said and decided he would tear into me right about now I didn't even want to see it coming.

"Why would a boy as pretty as you be interested in a man as old as me?" That wasn't the million dollar question I had expected him to ask.

"What?" I'd already established in a roundabout way that I was interested in him, how interested, I hoped he'd never ask. Or maybe, that was really what I wanted. If he expressed reciprocal interest, if he asked, I would tell.

"What's my appeal?" he clarified simply. I tried not to look uncomfortable with being trapped in my room while he asked me these questions.

For the love of God, what _wasn't _his appeal? Everything about him was so appealing that it bordered on obscene. Where was I supposed to start?

"If you let me get out of this room and get started on dinner, I'll tell you." That way I could think about exactly where this was heading and what I was going to do about it. He was just asking questions, probably trying to gain an understanding of why I found him so attractive and if that was the case, if I got my hopes up and was let down because he wanted to satisfy his curiosity, I was not going to be a very happy camper.

He stepped out of my way and I quickly picked up my laptop and charger and inched past him out of my room.

He followed me downstairs and to the kitchen, and I busied myself making sure my computer wasn't broken and setting it up so that I could begin to search for recipes.

"Okay," he said. I waited for him to say more, but he didn't.

"Dad, why are you asking me all these questions? Does it or does it not offend you that I find you attractive?" I had settled for just asking him what his intentions were instead of guessing and playing his game of twenty questions.

"I just want to understand this. It doesn't offend me at all that you find me attractive. I just have a hard time understanding why."

"Why?" I didn't stop what I was doing as I spoke. He sat down and waited for me to enlighten him and I bustled about, pulling out pots and pans and filling them with water. Turning the stove on, I said, "It's complicated."

I looked at him. He had his head cocked slightly to the side but no confusion evident in his features. "Complicated," he repeated.

"Yeah, so?" I shrugged. "What, you don't believe me?"

He shook his head. "No, no, it's not that I don't believe you, I want you to elaborate."

"But I don't want to." I said stubbornly. I didn't want to satisfy his curiosity and move on. I want to know if I had a chance with him, if he could ever look past all the factors that made this whole thing as wrong as it was and allow me to show him how I feel about him in a way that words could hardly express.

"I want you to." He just sat there and looked at me like there was no reason he shouldn't get what he wanted. Now, he was playing that card a little too often this evening for my liking. Unfortunately, I only had myself to blame for that.

"Dad. Daddy. Please." Please stop torturing me with these questions, stop getting my hopes up, stop using my own words against me.

"What are you asking me for, Gohan? Why is it so hard for you to just answer the question?"

That was it. My frustrations caught up to me and I threw the metal spatula I had in my hand across the room.

"What. The. FUCK. Do you want me to say? Okay, let me specify since you're looking for specifics! Yes, I think you're sexy, yes, I think you look even better in your uniform, yes, I like your new haircut, yes, I fantasize about you, yes I think of you when I jack off, and yes, I know, I KNOW, it's fucked up, and it's wrong, and I hate that, and I'm sorry! But what am I supposed to do? It's not my fault—

My anger-filled screams were abruptly ended when very, and I mean _very _suddenly he was little but an inch in front of me and this surprised me so much that I immediate shut up. Aside from holding me when I was a child, he had _never _been_ this _close to me before. I think I might have even stopped breathing.

He didn't do anything, just stared at me as if he were a little confused and trying to see something. But his expression still had somehow managed to be gentle, in spite of the fact that I was little wary and afraid. It didn't help matter any that got hard almost instantly. He started to slowly lean over but then stopped again. He was so close now that if one of us moved our lips they would touch.

Good Lord, was he going to kiss me? I wanted to close my already droopy eyes, but I was too curious to see what was about to happen. After all I had just blurted out, could he possibly still look at me the way he was as a boy who was just his son?

My glazed orbs slid down to his lips and that was when he whispered, "Language," and closed the distance between us, at first brushing, then pressing firmly his slightly damp lips against my mouth. My eyes flew opened and up and I saw black. His eyes were open and staring into my own comically wide ones and then he pulled away with a small smile.

"I just wanted to make sure it was okay to do that," he said softly. "I didn't want to be wrong and get punched."

I was too shocked to move or speak. He—my _Dad_—he just kissed me! What beautiful, great, wondrous, miracle brought him to this conclusion?

He smiled, amused at the look on my face. "Is that not what you wanted?" he teased.

I lifted my hand to my lips and made an embarrassing croaking noise of confusion, which made him laugh. Meanwhile my heart soaring in happiness, even though I was shocked speechless. I felt like I would faint from the feeling of his lips on mine, the tingling that brief kiss left behind. I was lightheaded from the suddenly immense arousal. He KISSED me! On the LIPS! I thought I would DIE!

"Say something, Gohan." He started to look worried.

"U-um..." I had been wanting him to kiss me since forever and now that he had I could barely remember my own name. Then, the smell of something burning wafted into my nose. Shit, the water!

I rushed to turn off the stove, and groaned at the sight of the burnt pan. Now I had to wash it and scrub the stuck on ashes at the bottom before I could use it. I took it to the sink to rinse it off and dropped it in when Dad's voice sounded from right behind me.

"Don't worry, son, I'll take care of that. It was my fault, after all." I almost jumped out of my skin. I whirled around and he was so close to me that I bumped right into him. He put his hands on my shoulder to keep me from bouncing off and looked down at me. He was six foot two inches of the most perfect specimen of man I'd ever seen and I swear I got harder just looking at him.

"Did I go too far too soon? Did you not want that?" he asked again and I detected the worry and fear in his voice.

He was afraid that he had gone too far? After all that I said? Hell, he hadn't gone far enough. I hugged him and leaned my head against his naked chest.

"No, Dad, you didn't go too far and I did want that, but I never thought I'd get it. I was just really surprised. Maybe..." I blushed and tried to give him a coy smile. "Maybe you can try again?" He chuckled and slowly moved forward. I stopped breathing.

"Maybe I can." My eyes shifted down to his lips again for the second time as he closed the distance between us and when we finally met, I whimpered and moved my hands to wrap around his neck and stood on my tiptoes.

Oh my God, it was even sweeter than the first kiss.

For a few seconds it was chaste and sweet and nice but I didn't hesitate to help deepen in when his tongue roved insistently over my bottom lip. My knees shook as I tasted him and moaned when he sucked on my bottom lip. I suddenly let out a small gasp into his mouth when I felt a hardness against my stomach and that was all my knees needed to stop working. I slumped down and he put his hands around my back to support me, not pausing a beat in kissing me breathless.

All of my fantasies could never have prepared me for what it felt like to kiss my father. If there was one thing I knew, it was that my Dad was very good kisser. Now, I was a virgin and all but I had kissed my fair share of girls in school and none of them had made me feel as good as this. None of them tasted as good. None of them made my dick so hard I thought I would shoot my load right then and there.

That feeling greatly intensified when he pulled away from me and bent further to kiss and nibble on my neck.

"Oh my God!" I gasped and tilted my head back to allow him better access. Oh Jesus, I couldn't believe this was happening. Shit, I couldn't believe he was sucking on my neck like that!

Then he used his teeth. "Shit!" I practically whined and arched into him and moaned hotly. "Dad!" My hands scrambled over his back as my arousal spiked with the sensation of his canines on my adam's apple. "Oh, Daddy!" His mouth ravenously assaulted the skin under my ear and chin and I about died from how good it felt.

He groaned my name into my neck and I felt his hands leave my back and slide down to cup my ass. He lifted me up and I twined my legs around his hips. He placed me on the counter next to the sink and continued to kiss his way down until he reached the collar of my shirt. I was happy to remove it and offer the skin of my chest to him. He licked and nipped downward until he got to my nipples.

"Dad..." I breathed weakly. I was so turned on and panting so bad I was shaking.

"Relax baby, let me take care of you." Oh man, his voice sounded like it had gone through a blender, and it was so hot I could only nod. Everything he was doing to me felt so good I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to last much longer.

"Please Dad," I whimpered, "Please hurry." I didn't know what I was hurrying him for but I knew that I wanted him to do more to me. He licked his lips, which nearly made me swoon, and went back to my torso, where he dragged his wicked tongue down a path to one of my nipples. I choked out a sob when his tongue encircled it and one hand left my back and the other rubbed my steel hard erection through my thin house pants. I didn't bother to act modestly and immediately thrust my cock into his warm hand and pressed his head to my chest to urge him to suck my nipple harder.

"Mmm," he grunted and pulled away to service the other hard little nub and rubbed my crotch with more vigor. If he didn't stop I was going to come and I told him so.

When he stopped sucking my tits I whined unhappily. That was, until I saw what he was going to do next. He quickly untied the drawstrings on my pants and all but manhandled me to get them past my butt. As soon as he bent down toward my crotch I pushed him back so forcefully he stumbled three steps.

"Nuh-uh," I said, and slipped my horny little ass down off the counter, pulled my pants up, and went to my knees in front of him. "Me first," I whispered and without taking my eyes off of his own confused ones, slowly guided my tongue up the seam and zipper containing his very hard uniform pant-clad dick.

"Um yes, Daddy," I said more to myself than to him, licking my lips hungrily.

I could barely stand how aroused I had become. Nobody and nothing had ever been able to do this to me but him. He always brought out the extremes out in me like nobody else could. Right then, all I wanted to do to was pleasure him until his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

A seductive smirk crossed my face when he tried to get me to stand back up. "No, no, Daddy, this is going to happen." Right then, it was about what I wanted and before he asked me to stop, I hastened to unbuckled his belt and unzip him, not taking my eyes of his face. Opening the fly of his pants, I licked the large bulge through his underwear and then kissed it softly.

"G-Gohan," he whispered, uncertainty in his voice. His face was so beautiful like that, twisted in arousal and anticipation, biting his lip and silently begging me with his eyes to go further. Oh, I will, Daddy, I'll go as far as you want me to go.

"Do you want me to suck your cock, Daddy?' I asked in my most innocent voice.

He put his hand on my head and rubbed it gently. "W-well, I, uh, I don't know if you should. Maybe you shouldn't—

I wasn't pleased to hear that he was having doubts. It seemed okay a minute ago when he was about to go down on me but when the tables were turned, he suddenly seemed concerned about my innocence. Oh, Dad, when will you learn? I'm just not innocent. This message, I conveyed with another purposeful lick and the lustiest look I could give.

"Please?" I whispered and gave his cock a slow suck through the cloth to show him I meant business.

"O-only if you really want to, son," he groaned softly in defeat.

"I really want to." And with that I reached my hand inside his briefs and pulled his long, hard, beautiful penis out.

I could do little more than marvel at the beauty of it. It was sleek, but thick and lightly veined and pale like the rest of him. But what really awed me was how big it was. I shouldn't have been surprised, because I always imagined he was well endowed even though I'd never seen him hard before. In all my fantasies he was wonderfully well hung but the reality was almost too beautiful to comprehend.

He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of my neck before he took his hand away. "It's okay if you change your mind, I won't be upset." I don't know if it was just me, but he sort of sounded like he wanted me to change my mind.

I shook my head and gave the tip of his perfect cock a lick. "It's beautiful." It felt like my own erection was about to break, but I wanted to orgasm with him in my mouth so I went on and kissed it, then opened my mouth and softly sucked the head in between my lips. Dad drew a sharp breath and put his hand on my head again. He started to push me back gently.

"Nnn...Gohan...mmm, don't think we should—no, no, we shouldn't—

I sucked harder to shut him up and make him moan the same time. I didn't care that he was worried about what kind of person he was to let his teenage son suck his dick. I was just too horny to care at the moment. I didn't give him time to regret what was happening and began humming while I sucked, hungrily taking more inches in and running my tongue everywhere it could reach (and believe me, it was a tight fit).

The sounds he made were so wonderful and his face displayed such profound ecstasy that I just couldn't stand it anymore and reached down to stroke myself in my pants. He was _so_ delicious, my _God_. You could never imagine how right it felt.

The feeling, the weight, the taste, how exquisitely big he was, all of those things, in my horny thirteen year-old mouth was the most perfect thing I had ever experienced in my life. By the look on his face and the tightening of his hand in my hair, he felt much the same way.

I could barely believe that I was there in our kitchen, on my knees, sucking my gorgeous father off. It was the best scenario I could have ever hoped for. No dream had ever been this hot. At no point in my life did I feel more strongly for him than I did at that time, pleasuring him with my mouth, loving him like nobody ever has, like my own mother never has. I would love him completely if he let me, I would bring him all the pleasure I could with my body, and even if he just used me, I would feel as if I were doing him a loving and much deserved service.

"Oh man, Gohan, that feels so good..." I nodded to him in agreement. I had been staring into his eyes since I took his erection between my lips and he was fighting to maintain the contact. I didn't mind if he couldn't because all I wanted was to see him in the throes of pleasure.

"Umm," I moaned around him in appreciation and sank down as far as I could go I stopped when I got to the point he would be pressing against the back back of my throat. It was glorious when he threw his head back and growled heatedly, "Oh my God!"

Little did he know that the best was yet to come. For about a year and a half, since I started to dream about what it would be like to have his penis in my mouth, I had been frequenting all sorts of websites specializing in how to orally please a man. When I was about six, Mom had bought me some play clay that came in a tube about 2 inches in diameter that was circle on one end and stood flat on its cap. I would put the smooth, round end of the tube in my mouth as I fantasized and touched myself thinking about him. The thing he was about to realize was that I learned a lot from those websites.

I bobbed my head for a while, back and forth, sucking with a slow intensity and varying my sucking to sort of lure him into thinking that the pattern wasn't going to change too much. He had obviously never felt this good before because he was practically babbling nonsensical things and looked as if he had died and gone to heaven.

I couldn't smile then, but if I could have, I would have.

I pulled back and let him slip out of my mouth with a wet pop. Immediately, he looked down at me to see what was wrong.

"Gohan?" he questioned, both in confusion and disappointment.

"You should sit," I replied. He gave just the look I expected. I would have led him to the living room, but I couldn't even wait for that so I just directed him to the chair behind him. He sat down.

I crawled over to him and he stared with hazy, lust-filled eyes and I decided I liked that look. When I reached him, I did nothing to belie what was about to happen. I took him back into me and started sucking, only I sucked faster and harder than before. Dad moaned and panted my name and I pushed myself until I was at the threshold again.

I took a deep breath and grabbed his hips. He arched right off the chair when I pushed again and his cock sank into my throat.

"_Uhh, Gohan, oh!_" he moaned so loud I determined right away that this could never be done in public.

I watched with glee as his eyes rolled up and felt his hands, both of them, on my head, pressing me closer to him. I felt his hips flex under my fingers and held them down as best as I could. Of all the things I read about blowjobs, I inevitably came to the discovery that there were certain things I could do that apparently other people could not probably because I was a Saiyan. It had come to me while I was moaning like crazy one day when Dad wasn't home and I was having a great scenario going on in which he was being especially rough with me. To simulate the fantasy better, I jammed the tube down my throat and gagged myself with it. I kept doing it every time I jacked off until I didn't gag anymore and that was when I learned something special about myself.

I was now about to apply that special something.

With a grunt, I pulled breath in through my nose and moved forward again, forcing more of him past my esophagus. When I had just more than half of his cock in my mouth, I drew back a little then drove back down. Daddy gasped, "_Fuck!_" in what sounded like astonishment.

I was done playing games. I was nearing my orgasm fast and felt like my balls were about to explode. I was still looking at his face, enjoying the expressions I caused him to make, when he looked back down at me. It looked as if it took considerable effort for him to do so but he did and then promptly his head dropped back again with a groan.

I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore when I realized that he'd only looked down to see what his dick looked like half buried in my throat and that when he'd seen, he made such an odd, guttural sound that turned me on more than I could stand. Too beautiful, too carnal, too arousing. I was completely lost in this, aware of nothing else but making him feel as good as he deserved to feel with some part of me, a part that he never had from anyone else.

Moving my hands, I dove into my pants with one and used to the other to firmly squeeze his balls, and simultaneously, I unleashed my specialty and began moving the muscles of my esophagus up and down independently of my neck while moving my head at the same time. I took his cock to the base and tugged his on his balls.

It was after a few minutes of sucking and dwindling air supply that he finally shouted some unintelligible form of my name and announced that he was going to come so I redoubled my efforts and at the fastest pace I could maintain, repeatedly pulled up until just the head was in me and thrust back down to the hilt. Dad actually began to make noises close to yells and that was when I lost it.

I very near would have shrieked, but I may as well say I gargled around his cock in absolute ecstasy when I finally came. All of the sounds I made reverberated through him and in my orgasmic bliss I felt his semen shooting into my throat in response. As slowly as I could while being rocked by the most awesome climax of my life I tried to pull my head back to get some to taste but Dad wouldn't let me. He was forcibly holding me to him, pumping his load straight into my stomach and I couldn't do anything against his strong grip and deal with my own ejaculating dick at the same time.

"Oh God...Oh my God, oh Gohan, oh baby, yes...oh God shit..." he chanted as he emptied his balls inside of me and there was so much of it that I started to (tried to) choke at the sheer volume. By the sudden tightening of his hands, I guessed he liked that a lot.

As I floated back down to Earth from my climax, Dad slumped back down in his seat and his hands released my head. I gingerly pulled away and groaned with discomfort when the head of his still hard dick popped out of my abused throat. His come was still gushing, but with very little volume, it just oozed out in fat continuous globs of white all my tongue and the stuff spilling out of my mouth dripped all over my hands as I tried to keep it from spilling all over the floor. It practically drenched them and flowed between my fingers anyway.

While he caught his breath I inspected the thick, creamy, sticky sperm that covered my hand and slowly, sparingly, swallowed my salty mouthful. When I was done I leisurely began to lick my fingers clean, finding that the taste was everything I knew it would be and more. I then moved on to sucking them, wriggling my tongue in between each one to get it all. As I was getting engrossed in the taste of his come I was suddenly aware that I was being watched.

When I looked back up at him I had at least the decency to blush at the expression on his face. He seemed surprised that I was eating his come so enthusiastically and that made me almost embarrassed that he might think it was disgusting of me. I stopped.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Uh..." he shook his head, "N-no, it's...it's okay...I mean..."

It was okay. But after that...was he okay. Were we okay? Had we gone too far? Even though I was worried, I was hoping that we hadn't gone far enough. I wasn't going to pretend that I that I was fine with stopping there. I was horny and I had never wanted anything so badly in my life as I wanted him. I wasn't concerned with anything anyone might think about this outside of this house, what anyone might say about how terribly wrong this was and how wrong I was—we were. I didn't care. But more than anything I wanted to go farther with him now, I wanted him to be okay.

But I didn't say anything. I didn't let myself freak out and wonder about all the things that a person in my situation should be worried about right about now—_Oh damn, what if I've ruined everything? What if he's freaked out? What if I've forced him to do something he didn't want to do? Did I just take advantage of him?_

We were all each other had left and if I really did mess things up by letting my feelings take the best of me, then I would regret it in such a profound way that I could never forgive myself even if someday he could. I didn't say anything. I only waited to see what he would say or do next. If he didn't freak out within the next five minutes, I could safely assume that we were going to be all right. Relatively, at the very least.

"I don't know," he was still regaining his breath, huffing a little between words. "I don't know if I should have let that happen, but...I did...I liked it. It was..." He cocked his back and to the side, looked up, contemplating what he was going to say next to possibly justify any of this.

"It was nice. I don't regret it," he finally said. "It was wrong, and maybe I shouldn't be so comfortable with that, but I...I think I am." He looked back at me and for the first time ever, I witnessed him blush.

He carefully put himself away and buckled his pants back up. My eyes followed every movement of his hand and I smiled without words to let him know that I didn't regret it either. He stood and did the oddest thing. He reached down and rubbed my head.

"Thanks, son. Uh...ahem...I'm going to take a shower now and get ready for dinner. You...um...you know you don't have to cook if...if you don't want to." Then he looked around the kitchen like he didn't know if he should do something, then back at me. He sort of chuckled "Uh...okay," then turned to go upstairs.

I held in my laugh the whole time. Poor Dad, he didn't know what he should have been doing after getting blown by me in the kitchen. It wasn't as if there was something he should have done, but I would have appreciated it if he at least tried to go further. I was a little disappointed that he didn't try anything else but I knew he wasn't prepared for having to deal with what came next. I don't know if he even knew what was supposed to happen next. Or maybe he didn't want that.

Well, I stood, I was going to find out. I quickly activated three of the servo bots to make us some semblance of a mildly appetizing meal one might call dinner and left the kitchen.

When I got to the top of the stairs, I slammed my room door shut and on cat's feet I crept down the hall to his. It was slightly ajar, as it usually was. I stopped, listening carefully as he moved around his room, getting ready for his shower. I don't know what he thought I was doing right then, but as far as I knew I was going to catch him by surprise in a few moments. I heard him go into his bathroom and start the shower and quickly raced back to my own room to change my pants and wipe myself off.

In a flash, I tore out of clothes and jumped in my own shower for the third time today. I was already clean, but after coming in my pants I figured a good wash down was needed. The minutes were a blur as I rushed to dry myself off and grabbed my lube from under my pillow. In seconds, I was creeping back to his room door only to hear that he was still in the shower.

Perfect.

I slowly opened his door and tiptoed inside. His clothes were laid out on the foot of the bed, and on the chair near his desk. There were two uniforms. Huh. I didn't know he had more than one. Anyway, back to why I'm here. I smiled to myself and removed his uniform, folding it and putting it on his dresser. Then I crawled into his bed and unscrewed the tube of lube I brought with me.

Coating my fingers, my smile only grew when the shower turned off. He hadn't known what to do in the kitchen, and maybe he was scared to take such an intimate step. Like any good son would, I was here to assure him that everything was alright. He was more than welcome to take full advantage of me.

My fingers were just at my entrance when he walked in with his towel in his face, drying his hair and when he wiped it down his face, his eyes got so big when he saw me sprawled out wearing only a smile on his bed.

He dropped it.

I held in my laughter. "Oh, hi, Dad," I said as I lazily circled my hole with two fingers, like I belonged on his bed, legs spread and bent at the knees, playing with my ass and none of this was surprising.

"I was just wondering..." I began, glancing down at my hand between my legs. I bit my lip as both digits sank in. "Was a blowjob all you really wanted, because..." I looked back up at him and licked my lips. "Not that I didn't love that, but I was hoping you might of wanted to do more."

He just stood there, gaping at me, his hand still in midair from where it was holding the towel that was now at his feet to his face. I sat up and smirked, though on the inside I was nervous as hell. What if he really didn't want to go this far? I was attempting to seduce him but what if it didn't work? All I could do was appear confident and play my cards as well as I could.

"I know you just got all clean, but don't worry, if you get dirty again, I can clean you with my tongue."

I thought by the look on his face that he would faint or something and decided that he needed a little push in the right direction.

"Don't you think I'm good with my tongue? You know, my mouth isn't the only tight hole I've got." He blinked, but still didn't move. I frowned a little and jumped up from the bed and began towards him.

"Come on, _Daddy," _I chided, walking right up to him. "Don't you want me?" There, I'd asked. I hoped against hope he didn't reject me. Could I be this confident for just a few more minutes?

"Oh..." he croaked. It would have been funny if my stomach didn't feel like it was sinking. I carefully wrapped my arms around his wet torso and pressed myself against him in a hug, smiling wider when his towel-clad erection jabbed me in the stomach.

"G-Gohan," he started. I kissed his right pec and looked up at his face. He was looking down and seemed to be scared by what was happening, almost like he was trying to hold back. I felt his hands reach around himself to pry mine from his back. I let him, showing my disappointment with a pout.

"You don't..." he cast a brief glance at the ceiling, his adam's apple bobbing so hard I could hear it. "You don't know what you're asking me for. You...you're just a..."

I stopped him right there with a glare. "Just what? A child?"

He tried to step past me, but I matched his movement with a step of my own. "Dad!"

"Gohan, this can't happen. As much as I want it to, I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" I spat almost hysterically. "You wouldn't hurt me, Dad, we both know that!"

"I can and if you don't stop it, I will."

My glare intensified and I tilted my head to the side, squinting at him. "What do you mean?"

Was he _threatening _me?

"Your mother," he began weakly. "N-no." He pushed me aside and opened his room door. Was he asking me to leave?

"But Dad—

"I can't!" He snapped.

"Why not?" I was getting desperate. What had I really just done? It couldn't go like this. I didn't understand why he didn't want to, when I had showed him how much I cared about him downstairs, when I had blurted all of my feelings out, let him know how bad I wanted him, how could he just turn me away? What did I do wrong?

"I let myself get too caught up down there, and I didn't mean to get your hopes up, but I'm trying to tell you that—

"You don't want me," I interjected. He opened his mouth, closed it, sucked his teeth, and sighed.

"That's all you had to say," I muttered and proceeded to leave his room. He let me go but called my name out pathetically. I ignored him and stomped to my room, slamming the door and sliding down against it.

My heart still felt like it was going to burst, but I could feel it deflating as what happened fully dawned on me. What the fuck was that downstairs? When he kissed me, made me feel the way he had, was about to put his mouth on my dick, let me put my mouth on his, told me everything was alright, when it obviously fucking wasn't! What the hell was that all about? And what did Mom have to do with it?

I pounded my fists down on my mattress as tears sprang to my eyes. After all that had happened tonight, I thought that we were past whatever problems he had with this, how I felt about him. I could have understood if he just wasn't ready, but he didn't deny that he didn't want me. Not like that. I know I should have been satisfied that I even got what I did, but I had put myself out there and he let me and then he let me down. I shouldn't have been crying about this now, but I couldn't help it. I really wanted him and to know that he didn't want me, when I thought he did, hurt.

I could nothing but sniffle quietly and trying to keep my tears back. The thing that was worst was the thing I tried not to give too much thought to earlier. What if I ruined out relationship? What could I do to fix it?

I groaned into my pillow. I didn't even know right then. I just knew that I didn't need to leave my room forever at least to get over this. I loved him, he was my father, and all I meant by this was for him to be as happy as I could make him, but maybe I'd just gone and ruined it being overzealous. I must have gone through all the ways in my head that this could get worse by morning and before I realized it, I had fallen asleep.

When I came down to make breakfast the next morning, I got the feeling that I was alone. Dad wasn't home, I could feel it. I groaned to myself. He must have left early to avoid me. Suddenly, I wasn't hungry anymore. I moved slowly as I got ready for school, feeling like crap and not wanting to go. But I had perfect attendance that I didn't want to screw up so I grudgingly flew off to school, zoning out so much that I'd passed it a few miles back. I had to fly back and pay as much attention as I could. My body was on autopilot and my mind was on overload. There were so many thoughts going through my head right then, there was no way I'd be able to concentrate in class.

All throughout the day I was spacing. My friends all tried to get my attention but to no avail. At one point I snorted at one of them, but not as much at them as at the thought of what they would do if they knew that I was thinking about how I might have fucked up mine and my father's relationship after having oral sex with him in our kitchen. They took it as a sign to leave me alone for the rest of the day.

At lunch I didn't eat, I just went out to the courtyard for a long walk and contemplated not going back, but I forced myself to. When the last period bell rang, I was the last one out the door, trudging with my head down. Miss Mikigami tried to call after me, but I ignored her.

There was no way I was going to Mom's today. Pulling out my cell phone, I called her and made up some hasty lie about why I wouldn't be visiting this afternoon.

"Well...okay, honey. I hope to see you tomorrow then." I could tell that she could tell something was up and I'm glad she didn't ask. That would mean I'd have to make another, better lie and I didn't particularly like lying to my mother.

Flying didn't sound appealing at the moment. I didn't want to get home too quickly so I started walking through the city and to the outer limits, into the more rural areas. My mind was racing. What would I say to him when I got home? I should apologize. Yeah. I should do that. I hadn't given him that chance to tell me whatever he was trying to tell me and I was curious about that. I wasn't sure if asking him to say it now after the fact was a good idea. Maybe I should tell him to forget everything I'd said. Or maybe I should tell him that I could be fine if all he wanted was oral sex. It was still something and much better than nothing. Better than a lot of things, actually.

How would I even bring that up? 'Hey, Dad, I know fucking's out of the question, but I wouldn't mind being your personal cocksucker'. Yeah, no, that might not go well anyway. I don't know how long I walked and I didn't care, but after a while it started getting dark and I figured that I should get home as soon as possible. It wouldn't do to have him too mad, or worried, if he was.

When I landed in front of the house, I could already sense that he was there. I held my breath, pulled my chin down to my chest, and opened the front door. He was in the kitchen. I made a beeline for the stairs.

"Gohan." Shit. Even though I knew it would, I had hoped that wasn't coming.

With a sigh, I stopped but didn't turn around. There was silence behind me for almost a minute and deciding that he wasn't going to say anything, I continued up the stairs.

"I do want you." I stopped again and so did my breathing.

"I do." I heard him start to move toward me. I stiffened.

"I want you very much. But..."

I didn't want to hear this. He didn't have to lie to me. I was going to be fine.

"It's cool, Dad. I just shouldn't have come that night." I made to leave again, but he kept speaking.

"You know why your mother divorced me, right?" I nearly tripped at how abruptly I stopped. If I had expected him to say anything, it really wasn't anything like that. Because I, in fact, did know why she left him. What exactly did that have to do with this?

I heard him sigh and he stopped moving toward me and stopped before he cleared the table.

"It's a little complicated, but I'll try to explain."

"I'm listening, Dad."

"I think I could say with relative certainty that I'm a nice guy. I think I'm fair and considerate, I don't like to see people hurt. Especially not because of me. But..."

I just stood silently, waiting for him to continue.

"There some situation when I'm not nice, I'm not fair, I'm not considerate, and I though I tried, I couldn't keep myself from hurting her. The messed up part was that I always got upset, not because she was hurt, but because she couldn't satisfy me. I didn't even care that she was in pain. I didn't want her to be, but I just wanted...I loved her, but..."

My eyes got bigger as he spoke. Was he attempting to say what I thought he was attempting to say?

"I'm not like I am in the outside world in... the bedroom. I'm not always a gentle man, Gohan. I'm not always chaste. I haven't had sex in...in what I'll just call a long time and I don't mean to be crass, but I'd tear you apart. And I don't want to hurt you. I'm telling you now. I'd hate it if...if you felt that you couldn't trust me not to keep you safe, or if you resented me for causing you pain."

He wasn't threatening me last night. He was warning me.

"Dad, I—

"You're just so young, and I couldn't do that to you. It would be like...like...raping you."

I turned around to face him. "Dad," I started, walking to him, "You can't rape me."

He shook his head and held a hand out to stop me. "Don't. I can. You would want me to stop and if you push me, I'm not going to want to. You're going to get more than you bargained for and you're not going to like it."

I continued advancing toward him. "You can't rape the willing, Dad," I told him. "I can handle you, I'm a Saiyan, too. I beat Cell. I'm strong, and at one point I recall I was stronger than even you, and that's saying something. At least give me a chance." I shut right up when I realized what I'd said.

"I don't have the tolerance to 'just give you a chance', Gohan," he glared at me as he spoke. "If I take you, you're going to have to deal with a lot of pain, and frankly I don't get tired easily."

I smiled. "It's even better that you can go all night. And I would love it if you got rough with me, I mean, that's the way you usually are in..." Okay, I better not finish that sentence. He gave me a suspicious look.

I had to convince him. "Please, Dad! I want you so much and I've dreamed of this for so long and for you to not give me the chance is unfair. How about this, I can raise my power level if it hurts too much, that should reduce the pain, right?"

"Son, don't—

He stopped, and a contemplative look crossed his face. "Well, actually, that might work—no, no, you would have to focus, and if you raise it too high, you could hurt yourself or me and—

"I could never hurt you, Dad. I promise I can take you. I promise I won't be like..." Like Mom.

His lips pursed and for a second I thought I might have upset him. Then he shook his head no and put his hands up.

"I can't consider this. I let this go too far. I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have even let you do what you did last night."

The more he spoke, the more upset I got. Why couldn't he just try? That's all I was asking. I knew where he was coming from, but trying has just the same chance of working as it does of not working. So I didn't see why he had to go for the option that made the least sense.

So apparently we wanted each other. I failed to see the problem.

Even if it turned out that I didn't like it, how could he say that last night shouldn't have happened. I had hoped for so long and it felt so right, like it was meant to happen. Why did he have to make it so difficult? He'd said he was okay with it, what was that? Didn't that mean something? Wasn't it okay to try?

"You lied?" I almost phrased it as a statement, but my confused tone at the end made it a question. It didn't matter. What mattered was how he answered.

"I did not," he said defensively. "I did not lie, Gohan. I wouldn't lie to you, you know that."

"Do I?" I was calling him out. If he wanted me, and I was offering myself to him, and he didn't want to take me up on it, then I have to wonder if something else is wrong, don't I?

"I hope you do. And don't do that. Don't try to guilt trip me and don't imply that I'm a liar. I'm still your father, and I won't have that."

There. He'd said it. He's my father.

"Is that the problem? You don't want to fuck me because I'm your son? I sucked your dick last night and you said it was okay and that you didn't regret it and you have a problem with this?"

What I said had appalled him into silence for several seconds. Then,

"Language," he growled and pushed me. I stumbled back at the force and surprise. What?

"You're barking up the wrong tree, son." As he said that he pushed me again. I didn't do anything. I just glared at him and allowed it to happen. I didn't know where this was going, but I couldn't stop trying now.

"Am I?"

"Yes." Another push. My heels hit the bottom step. One more push and I was going to fall.

"Really? Because I don't think I'm barking loud enough. I won't stop until you give in." With loads of confidence to spare.

"I'm not going to."

Oh? We would see about that. I smirked at him and remembered what happened last night. The look on his face as I laid on his bed with my fingers in my ass, how hard he'd been when I hugged him. I wasn't going to let him get away this time.

He sort of glowered at me, as if he didn't like my defiant attitude. Like I was putting him in a tough spot. At least, that's what I hoped that look was about.

"That thing I did with my throat, remember that?" His eyes opened a little wider and he gaped for a second but didn't respond.

"I know you do. How could you forget. I was good, wasn't I? Wanna know how I got so good?"

His furious frown was immediate. "It better not have been with anyb—

"Not with another person. An object. The point is, you're the first. I got this good pretending that I was being forced to swallow your cock. Let's drop the pleasantries. My mouth is as dirty as my mind and now you know that, in more ways than one, so we can stop pretending that I'm an innocent boy who shouldn't say such things because we both know I'm not." Keeping my eyes on him, I took a step forward and gracefully slid down until I was sitting on my haunches. I was very close to him and couldn't make this move without rubbing against his body on the way down.

"Stop." A weak protest. Not this time, Dad.

"You said you didn't want to fuck me, you didn't say anything about me getting my mouth on that lovely cock of yours again."

"N-not now," he stuttered and made a half-hearted attempt to get me to stand. I batted his hands away and smirked.

"Haven't we done this before? And as I said before, this is going to happen, Daddy. Because you want it to happen. Because we both know it felt sooo good to blow your load down my tight, wet, hot little throat."

He shoved me back away from him and I fell, sprawled on the stairs. Before I could think the worst, he was (surprisingly) on top of me faster than I could open my mouth.

"He—mmm!"

He crashed his mouth down onto mine so hard I felt the pressure on my teeth. There was a sharp tug on the back of my head as he wrapped his hand around my hair and twisted. I groaned in pain into the kiss and wriggled until I lay as flat on my back as possible. I don't know if it was because I moved or what but after I settled he bit me very hard on my bottom lip, breaking the skin and causing me to groan again in pain.

He jerked away from me like I was on fire and cocked his right hand back.

"This is what you get for making me do this." He swung his hand forward and slapped me across the face. My face whipped to the side. I was stunned. And by no means was it what anyone would call a 'love tap'.

"And this is what you get for being a defiant little brat." I had all the time in the world to dodge or block the next blow, but I didn't. He slapped me so hard my head rocketed back and hit a step.

Grabbing my hair again, he dragged me up and forward, moving back to allow me room and pushed my head down toward his crotch. "Do it again. Suck it again. You want to see how bad I want you?" He held my hair tightly in one hand and unbuckled his pants with the other.

"Calling me liar," he muttered angrily, pulling his erection out.

The hold he had on my hair hurt and my face my still stung from the slaps but I was so terribly turned on by all of this that I couldn't even speak. Any normal person would have wondered where all of this was coming from. I didn't know. I had only seen Dad violent a handful of times, and only when someone pissed him off. Sure, he fought and killed a lot of bad guys, but only a few times had he deliberately tortured them. Like he did to Frieza.

But it was me who had warranted this. I really had asked for this, hadn't I? I knew him better than anyone, and he wasn't as naïve as his friends imagined. This was important to him and it obviously angered him how I had denied him control of the situation, pushed him. Now I was being punished for it.

Or so he thought. He would soon realize how much I was enjoying this, how much the way he pushed me again and mounted my chest to thrust his dick into my mouth aroused me. How, when even though it was his fault, he slapped me again for scraping my teeth against him, my cock throbbed because I was enjoying every second of it.

"Bitch," he snarled. This was the Saiyan in him. The animal. The thing that drove Mom away. He needed to dominate, to discipline, he needed to show me who was in control and put me in my place.

Oh yes, Daddy, yes, yes, yes, I love you this way. I want this, I want you. Give in. Give in and fuck my brains out. Fuck me until I cry. Fuck me until I bleed. Fuck me until I pass out.

I grabbed his ass and sucked like crazy as he raped my mouth with complete disregard of my comfort. He made wild, ecstatic sounds and wild ecstatic movements, so much more than last night, driving his hips in short thrusts, not allowing me any breath and not being at all gentle with my hair, still wound up in his fist.

"I told you," he panted, gritting his teeth. I tried as best as I could to take in as much as possible, but was tugging making me wince and it was hard to keep my eyes open.

"I told you not to...uh...not to...fuck! I told you don't, uh, push, huh, me!"

He hadn't been exaggerating earlier. He was not nice or gentle or considerate during sex, not when his Saiyan side came out. Thinking back, I might have glimpsed it last night, but that was before I knew what he was truly capable of. Now he was fucking my face as if I were just some cheap, stranger slut and I absolutely loved every bit of it. The only thing I wasn't entirely fond of was that I could barely breathe. When my nose wasn't smashing against his pubes, I took those small opportunities to inhale as much air as I could, which wasn't much considering he was moving faster. I needed air was the sad truth. I didn't want to stop him, hell, I wasn't even sure he would stop after what he told me earlier, but it was either that or faint from lack of air. Maybe he realized that he might throat fuck me to death because he quickly pulled out and dismounted me. Only to begin tearing off my clothes.

"Now. Tell me no now. Now, or I'm not going to stop," he told me while tossing my shredded clothing behind him and flipping me onto my hands and knees on the stairs.

"Yes, Daddy. Yes, please take me. I'm yours, I would never say no to you. I'll do anything you want. Anything," I babbled encouragingly.

He said in a low, distracted voice, "I know you will."

I watched dazedly behind me as he got down on his knees and lined himself up. I was so horny. Was it possible to be too horny? If so, then I was definitely at that point. But that didn't mean I wasn't scared. Without any preparation, I was about to be torn apart.

"_If I take you, you're going to have to deal with a lot of pain."_

"_I'm not nice, I'm not fair, I'm not considerate."_

"_I didn't even care that she was in pain."_

"_I'd tear you apart." _

This was what I had asked—begged for. I couldn't help but think that I was foolish not to take everything he had said earlier into account and at least find lube.

"I love you, Gohan. I didn't want to hurt you, but this is what you want, isn't it?" He'd started to speak as he pushed forward. "You said so yourself." The head of his cock, wet with my saliva popped into my ass and I grunted at the sudden, terrible pain. "You fantasized about it. And now..."

I sucked in a breath and held it.

"Now..." he pressed again and started to sink slowly. I was glad he was taking his time because he was stretching me and it hurt like crazy already. I could even feel the skin around my entrance expand to the point of tearing. Thank God he was going slow.

"Now..."

I kept expecting for him to say something else, but what happened next only made me feel like a fool. He had been petting my back and hair softly while talked and it never occurred to me that he was lulling me into a false sense of security. So when he pulled back nearly all the way out and then rammed the entire length of his cock into me I howled in agony and surprise.

"Shhhh," he cooed into my ear, still gently stroking my shoulders. "Shut up, sweetheart, it doesn't hurt that bad."

I started to cry. I couldn't help it. I had never experienced such pain outside of a battle. This was what he warned me about. I felt stupid for thinking that he had decided instead to be merciful with me when he couldn't with his own wife.

"_Goku,"_ she'd said that day, "_You're an insatiable monster in bed. I can't deal with your sex ridiculous sex drive." _Because Dad had been grumpy that morning from not getting any for God knows might have been the umpteenth time and she'd asked why.

"_You know why,"_ he'd said vaguely, so as not to include me on their private argument. But Mom had obviously been fed up with that topic and it was an issue because she got mad and they went back and forth before she just spit it out right there in front of me in the kitchen. Right out there in the open. Dad had looked stricken for a moment. Apparently he wasn't aware that it was a big deal for her. But what could they do. They were married. In the end, neither of them wanted a sexless marriage and she left.

"_You know why your mother divorced me, right?"_

I knew why. Now I was experiencing it. But I knew I didn't have it as bad as she did or could have had it. I was getting off easy because I was half Saiyan.

"Stop crying," he whispered again, softly, in a voice that only sounded comforting and gentle, completely opposite from the reality of having definitely just ripped something in there. I was in tears and trying not to break down and beg him to stopped moving. He was slowly rocking back and forth and still talking, telling me that I shouldn't cry when I had worked so hard for this, when I had seduced him for this. Why should I cry when I made him do this?

The slow, kind strokes on my back and hair stopped. He pulled his hips back farther and shoved back in with a firm _smack_. My face meshed into the carpeted stairs as I cried out in pain. But I couldn't ask him to stop now. I didn't want him to. He was right. I asked for this, wanted this. I needed this rough, painful treatment from him. I'd had such vivid dreams about this.

"D-Dad..." I whimpered. The pain was dulling, but it took longer because he had started to move faster with longer, deeper lunges and I had yet to catch up from the surprise thrust from earlier.

"Mmhm," he grunted. "You are _so_ tight and good, god _damn_..." When his hands had stopped being nice to my back, they had gone down to take a vicious, bruising hold on my hipbones.

"Yuhh, Dad, ahhh, Daddy!" I don't even know when it was I had started to swoon. I wanted to see him, but the effort it took to keep my eyes open and turn to look was too much and I couldn't. The sounds he was making, however, made up for that. I think he must have been enjoying it a lot because I had never heard him use so much profanity in such a short amount of time. As happy as I was, all that did was turn me on more.

"My god!" He gasped the words out like he was amazed. But I was the one who should have been amazed and I was. I was becoming more and more aware of how good having him inside me felt as he sped up and gasped dirty things I'd never thought I'd hear him say into my ear. His body was bent over my back, heat radiating off of him like an aura and every word he said breezed against my ear in muggy puffs.

I finally let out a stuttering, blissful, loud half-moan as full nirvana enveloped me and the impact of what was really happening blew through my being.

"My god," he said again. "You're...you're enjoying this." He said it as if he were accusing me of something and I was too inundated with pleasure to smartly say, 'Of course, I told you so,' so I just settled for a sound of agreement and an enthusiastic shake of my hips.

So far he'd managed not to damage me and I was more than ready to get what I bargained for. "Fuck me good and hard Daddy," I panted. He seemed to be moving relatively slow now that I had adjusted to only slight pain and it was time to really get started.

"Mmm, your cock feels so good inside my ass..." I wanted to say more, but all coherent words abandoned me when he pulled out nearly all the way to stab back into me roughly, like he did the first time, scraping my face against the carpet. A sharp yell left me when he did that because he had slammed dead-on into my prostate and I about _died_ from how good that felt.

"M'kay," he mumbled and I felt his hand bunch my hair and tug again, this time, hard enough to pull me up and back a little, enough to change the angle of his thrusts. He cried out and bit into my neck at the same time to muffle the sound. The pain was barely registered because all I could and wanted to focus on was the feeling of every inch of him rapidly sinking into and withdrawing from my hole and the sounds and vibrations of his ragged breathing and muffled noises in my neck.

I was yelling. Not going to deny that. I was past delirium. I was in another world where only such ungodly pleasure existed, that I must have died and gone there. Fantastic visions flashed intermittently through my racing mind, visions of my childhood, of tortured nights fantasizing about this, of all the times I had to fight not to do or say something that would give away how I felt about him. This was it. The things I wanted the most in the world, more than my next breath, this was it, this was happening.

Daddy yanked my hair and slapped my ass, fucked me harder, faster. I was screaming now, cursing without even getting whole words out wanting to say things like _oh Daddy, I've wanted this for so long, damn it you fuck so good, such a perfect cock, so perfect and so sexy. I love you, I love you I love you _but not being able to get the words out to save my life.

This was happening. Right now. My father was plowing my brains out on the staircase at that very moment and it almost didn't feel real, and then felt so real it was unreal at the same time. I was feeling too good to make sense of my thoughts. This was everything I knew it would be and so much more. It was not perfect. Perfect was just a sub-par description, there wasn't a word for what it was. It was fucking ineffable.

I begged and begged with as much coherence I could gather for him to never stop. _Never stop, Daddy, don't ever, EVER stop. _

"So fucking good, oh God, I nuhh—never, uhhh-huh-huh...damn you're perfect..." he gritted. His voice was the best thing I'd ever heard. Every moan, grunt, groan, hiss, whimper, cry, shout, and gasp he made sent me further into the swoon that had overtaken me. How I'd manage to keep from coming my soul out by now was a mystery but I could feel my orgasm coming and knew it was going to be out of this world.

The noises he was making got increasingly louder and I don't even know about me, because maybe that out of control shrieking was me after all, because I was more focused on him. My entire world had dwindled down to just us and I was lost because everything was bursting lights behind my eyelids and surrounding darkness and _him _and I wanted to see him in the clutches of ecstasy so badly but I couldn't even gather the control to turn and look.

I was dying. This was it. I was dying, and it was beautiful. He stroked me full and rough and fast and it was Heaven and I was howling and screaming his name and _dying_ from the bliss. Killing me, taking me so hard it hurt, his harsh breath and incomplete words in my ear, his hands on my body, his cock so deep inside me, abusing my prostate; killing me was what he was doing.

There I was, on those stairs, giving my Dad what my own mother couldn't, pleasing him in the most complete way, his nails embedded in my hip and fingers entwined in my hair (a few strands I'm sure came out), getting what I'd only been able to dream about and jack off to with only my thoughts as a partner, giving him what he needed, doing wrong, nasty, sinful things with the man that contributed to my very existence, and I could only think that nothing in the world was more right, more perfect, more worth it.

I came with a scream that wasn't a scream because my voice and breath were gone, with words that weren't words because I couldn't speak, so hard I couldn't even explain the feeling that hit me, it was like nothing else in my life. The orgasm about shattered my mind. I jerked almost like I was being electrocuted, toes curling, spilling my come all over the step under me and the one above me, my eyes so far in the back of my head I wasn't sure they would come back out.

I only vaguely heard Dad roar behind me, in my ear, finding his own completion deep in my sore ass and couldn't concentrate for anything on his seed filling me, though I really wanted to. When he let me go all I could do was slump forward into a liquid heap on the steps, exhausted beyond words. I hadn't opened my eyes for so long that I couldn't tell the difference between passing out and resting with my eyes closed and don't know which I did.

* * *

"Gohan?" A voice in the darkness.

"Gohan!" Louder.

"Son, wake up!" A slap to my face. My eyes burst open.

"Dad?" I rasped. My voice... What was wrong with it?

"Oh, man, I wasn't sure you'd wake up." He was smiling and caressing my face where he'd slapped me to wake me up. Why would he have to hit me? My eyes doubled in size. I looked down and realized he nor I were wearing clothes and were on the couch. I was being cradled in his lap with no clothes on.

"Fuck," my voice cracked as it dawned on me.

"Language."

I looked at back up him and the smile was still there and it was so wide that I broke out into a grin, too. We had sex. We did. We were naked and my throat and ass were both sore and aching and—I took a peek down at my sides and noted the crescent-shaped indentations in my skin. My smile got impossibly wider. I hadn't been dreaming this time. Memories of brief episodes of the heavenly delirium I was in flooded my mind and I concluded that I must have passed out from it.

Now that he was there, right in front of me after we'd had outrageous sex I was at a loss for words. I just stared.

"What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" he teased and his voice was a little grainy, too.

"How was it?" I blurted out.

His smile revealed teeth. "No words, really."

Yeah, that was about how I felt.

I brought my arms up around his neck, shifting gingerly in his lap to kiss him on the lips. "I like that I leave you speechless, too."

I loved the way his voice sounded after sex, it was great and very sexy.

Then things got quiet and we just watched each other, scanning the other's face for some sign of regret, at least that was what I was looking for. I found nothing that would crush my heart and I kissed him again, deeply, showing him what I didn't show him earlier, showing him without words how thankful, grateful, and happy I was. The return was just as sweet, filled with intimacy and love and this was just the beginning of something we had yet to discuss in detail. For now, we were just cuddling, basking in the afterglow, enjoying taking our time getting to that bridge.

My feelings wouldn't change, but at the forefront of my mind, ready to be contemplated, was the thought that his might. God forbid, I don't even know what I would do. What was worse, I didn't know where I expected this to go. I knew how I felt before we had sex, but how did I feel now? The same? No, stronger. Stronger how? I know things. He was many things and one thing, that constant thing that made my previous feelings stronger. But I guess it might be strange if I didn't feel different after such intimacy.

"How long have I been sleeping?" _That you weren't sure I would wake up? _

"Three days." he said casually.

"WHAT?" I bolted upright in his lap fast, so fast I winced in pain as the sharp discomfort in my nether regions made itself known.

He laughed. "Relax, I was only kidding. It was just about an hour."

Oh gee, thanks Dad, I thought as I whimpered in pain and stilled myself.

"Couldn't help but notice," he started. He put a hand on my right shoulder blade. "This." His fingers traced over the slightly raised ink. "This is a tattoo," he stated. "Where and when did you get it and what does it say?"

I had forgotten it was there but what surprised me was that he didn't mention it until now.

"When did you see it?"

" Yesterday when you were in my room. You had turned to go and I saw it but didn't think that was a good time to bring it up."

"Oh..." Well, at least we'd had sex before I told him.

"I got it in February when a man that did Yamacha's handed me a flier to take home to my parents or older family members who might be interested in getting a tattoo. I wanted one so I went to him and at first he refused to do it because I was so young, but after waving some crisp yen in his face he agreed if I would never tell anyone he did it."

"What made you get it?" he asked, running his fingers through my unruly hair (which I was relieved to find I still had).

"I says your full name in English. I was...am...well, you know, I..." His smile morphed into a smirk.

"You what?" he probed innocently.

"I like you," I uttered. My face was aflame. We had just did the nasty on the stairs and I still blushed about admitting that to him.

"I hid it pretty good for ten months. I also got one of my ears pierced and wore an earring on our date..."

Oops.

"Date?" He sounded amused.

"Uh...oh yeah, well, it wasn't really a date, but that's the way I thought of it. I went out of my way to look good that night because I wanted to do you enough justice in public even if people weren't thinking what I was thinking." It amazed me to find that I still got the same flutters in my stomach and nervous blush even after what happened just a hour ago.

"Interesting, I thought of it the same way," he said, kissing me on the cheek. My eyebrows went up under my bangs.

"Really?"

"Yeah, because you looked like you were dressed for one and I was thinking that I should look good for the first time we went out and as I was getting ready I could help but notice that all of my preparation reminded me of the things people do when they go out on dates. People were staring at you."

"Really? I hadn't noticed. People were staring at _you. _Though I'm sure that waiter was hitting on me."

He laughed and said that he noticed that I was staring too. In fact, it turned out that he caught me staring quite often. I asked if he'd ever caught me giving him inappropriate looks at inappropriate places and he told me that he didn't notice that so much, but he certainly noticed it the day he got his new job.

"I couldn't help it," I explained. "You just looked so good I had to stare. And man, the way those pants fit should be illegal outside of this house."

"Hahahaha, and I thought they were a bit snug in those areas, too. That same day I watched you fight not to look at my crotch when I sat, your eyes kept sliding down and then quickly back up." Wow, I hadn't even noticed I was doing that. Good thing we had sex.

"Then you came home with that drop-dead hot haircut and I thought life couldn't get any worse. I was being tortured and couldn't do anything about it. I jacked off a bunch of times to the image of you in your uniform alone, then had more to fantasize about when you cut your hair." I touched his head and felt his short, tussled hair, soft and thick. I wasn't about to tell him the things I did with his underwear.

"So tell me," he said, touching one of my nipples and giving me a brief, coy smile. "How'd you learn you to suck cock like that?"

Oh boy. This was getting right into the dirtier parts of my fantasies. I was so heated earlier that I would have told him anything he wanted to hear but now I was more apprehensive than I thought I was going to be.

But since he asked, I said "Mom bought me some DoughBoy play dough when I was six and it came in this cylindrical tube that was round on end and flat on the other. Like a hotdog with a flat end." I paused to look at his face, but it hadn't changed. "When I was twelve I was already attracted to you and , well, I'd fantasize about what it would be like to..." I chanced another paused and glance at him, and this time he had a tiny smile etched into his mouth. I nearly cringed.

Just as I was going to continue, his smile not only got a little bigger, but he cut me off by letting go of me and saying, "Show me. Go ahead upstairs and bring it down here."

He wanted me to show him? I hadn't expected him to ask me that at all. After the things we'd done, it would have been prudent of me not to, but I still didn't expect it.

I carefully moved out of his lap and stood with a pained grunt. My ass felt like it had taken a battering ram and thensome. Frowning at the sharp stabs with each step I took, I ascended the stairs and to my room. I didn't have to look far to find it, for it was right under my pillow, where I usually kept it.

The trip downstairs was sure to be just as painful, and as I turned to make that unfortunate journey, I spun and walked right into my father and only just barely choked down the gasp of surprise.

"What the—why do you sneaking up on me like that?" I snapped, slapping at his wrist, but he caught my hand as if I were giving him a low five.

"Me? Sneaking up?" he snickered, running his thumb over my palm before letting my hand go. "I just thought it would be easier to come to you so you wouldn't have to walk back downstairs." How considerate.

"Sit." he said. I sat down with a grateful sigh.

"Show me," he said, with a small, suggestive, and very cute smile.

I pursed my lips and swallowed. This day could not have been any better.

As I demonstrated my technique, he stared raptly at my mouth, his lips opened just a little bit. A few minutes had already passed and I was beginning to wonder how long he wanted to watch. He hadn't made any moves to touch himself or me, just gazed steadily at me as I slid the tube in and out of my throat and mouth.

"Stop," he commanded and I pulled the tube out with a purposeful pop and a tiny huff of relief.

He had been standing as he watched, naked, and I had been ogling him the whole time, I couldn't help it.

"You are a kinky, kinky boy." Then the most perverted grin I had ever seen crossed his face. "Now show me again."

"Again? But Dad—

"Here," he offered, nodding his head downward. My eyes followed the incline of his chin.

I immediately went to get on my knees but he held his hand up to stop me and came closer to firmly press his dick to my lips and I opened up to let him in and he pushed himself straight to the back of my mouth with a heated groan.

If there was anything more beautiful than what he looked like when he was being pleasured I had never seen it and was pretty confident that I never would. His body was second only to his face, perfection in every line and contour, every muscle, every flex, every proportion. His skin was pale, even-toned, and much softer than it looked and not a hair to decorate it but on his groin. The thing I liked best was that his balls were smooth and lightly crinkled and they were not too big, didn't hang too low, beautifully full and symmetrical and I loved playing with them.

I left his cock to move down and lick one succulent orb, all while keeping my eyes on him. I loved to watch him even when he wasn't watching me back. The face he made when I sucked one of his balls into my mouth was enough to make me want to touch myself. Just one of them filled my mouth almost entirely and I began to slurp softly, closing my lips around it and pulling. When I pulled, he would make the sweetest gasping sound and I just wanted to be able to stick them both in and suck him crazy.

That's when it came to me. There was something I had seem many times in the porn I'd watched, but it wasn't anything conventional and it could certainly be called nasty. I wondered if he would allow me to do it to him.

With one last moan and a good hard suck, I let his ball slip out of my mouth. Of course, he looked down and met with my imploring, pleading gaze.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, son?" He sounded a bit breathy, but only because he had been gasping and sighing most of the time.

I bit my lip, "Can I try something on you?"

His interested but confused expression was immediate. "Like what?" I almost smiled. He may have known about sex, but he was apparently oblivious to all of the nuances of it, all the dirty things one person could do to another.

"Well, I want to warn you that it's not exactly traditional. It's quite a bit more kinky than some people are or are willing to be. But it's supposed to feel really good." I paused to see if he was buying it and one corner of his mouth was raised and open in an expression I didn't know how to describe. It wasn't a smile, but not a scowl or a displeased look, just sort... open.

Then he said, "Are you going to tell me what it is or show me?"

I felt it was best to tell him, because I didn't want to show him and freak him out just when things were going so well.

"It's called rimming. And...it's when one person—

"I know what it is," he suddenly interrupted.

He did? I was baffled that he knew what I was talking about. The open-mouthed look he had a few seconds ago had turned into more of a gape of bewilderment and I started to think that maybe I shouldn't have introduced that idea after all.

"Um..." I stuttered, trying to quickly determine whether I should retract my suggestion. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I realize it's kinda nasty, but some people like that...I...I do, I think, I've never done it or had it done to me, but I just wanted to..."

I was too flustered to go on. I _really _wanted to do it, but if he wasn't interested then he wasn't interested.

His mouth closed and one of those 'you-want-to-do-what?' looks rented his face. "Uhhh..." he started uncomfortably. I held my breath and waited for him to tell me that that was much farther than he wanted to go. I wasn't going to be outwardly disappointed, but it sure would have been a loss.

"Wow. That's...that's...uh, that's awfully...kinky...in a...in a really..._special _sort of way."

I just shrugged, what else could I say?

Then he had one of those 'I'm-shocked-but-I'm-giving-this-some-thought' expressions and tried not to get my hopes up that he was considering it positively and just maybe he would give it a go. I would be even luckier than I had been thus far, and I admit that such a feeling was difficult to outdo.

"And I'm sure we're on the same page here. But I gotta ask; you want to...how to...h-how..."

"Lick, kiss, and other things?" I offered helpfully. I thought it almost too kinky to say what the 'other things' were. Better if I got the chance to show him.

Deciding to help things along more if I could, I continued, "You can always stop me if you don't like it. But I'd really like it if I could show you what it's like. A lot of firsts today."

Even after all the time that had passed since I brought the idea up he was still looking surprised. I guess he just couldn't fathom that I would want to put my mouth in places many would consider unclean and generally a no-no zone. I for one thought he had a great ass and sure as hell wouldn't mind worshiping his hole with my tongue. Just the thought of doing such wonderfully nasty things to him made my dick twitch.

Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes, please say yes...

"Oh...well, I guess if that's something you want to try—

Before he was finished his sentence I was excitedly throwing my arms around his waist and hugging him happily (it hurt but I was too happy to care). "Really? You'll let me?" Damn, I was happy!

He smiled uneasily and rubbed my head. "Yeah sure."

Oh yes, God. I was ecstatic enough to shout.

Having the chance to play out some extra kinky fantasies on my Dad? Priceless.

"Here," I tried not to be too eager in my movements to direct him to my bed."Lie here on your stomach, Dad." My eyes were hooded as he did what I said apprehensively, and they roved down to his ass as he turned and bent to get on the bed.

I stared the way a hungry person might stare at a multiple course buffet and licked my lips with a quiet groan. Today was like my birthday, Christmas, New Years, and all the gift-receiving holidays all wrapped in one, but better than those three had ever been.

"Okay, sweetheart, just go slow."

Oh I felt so magnanimous I was sure I would go slow, if only to savor the moment. A small part of me wanted to be ravenous and just attack his ass, but I didn't want to upset him or scare him away. I helped him get into position and crawled onto the bed with him. He was watching me the whole time and he looked a little anxious. My father had never been a modest man but it wasn't everyday someone asked if they could put their tongue in his ass. Mmm, I felt like such a dirty boy.

I positioned him by stuffing my pillow under his hips to raise his ass for easier access and having him spread his legs a little and he looked so sexy there on my bed, waiting for me to do nasty things to him. I didn't want to keep him waiting in his uneasy anticipation any longer.

On my knees I got into place behind him and gave him one last glance and what I hoped was a reassuring smile (not a leer, and to be frank, I don't think I succeeded). My hands gently cupped his smooth cheeks and slowly spread them. He quickly looked away.

I stopped when I saw his hole for the first time. It was pink, perfect, tight, and took my breath away. It was beautiful, just like everything else about him.

He stayed silent through my scrutiny of his most private place. "My God you're beautiful here," I told him and lightly ran a finger over it. I was going to immensely enjoy this. I craned my neck around to see what he was doing and he had his face in his arms, waiting, don't know if he was waiting for it to be over with or for me to begin.

"It's okay, Dad. You're going to like it." At least I hoped he did. I got down on my knees and brought my face close enough to kiss one of his round, tight cheeks. He flinched when I did it. I almost couldn't wait to get to good part, but since I told him I would go slow I tenderly licked the same cheek a few times, then moved on to the other, gently kneeding whichever one I wasn't kissing and licking.

Holy hell I was so hard. What I was doing—about to do—to him made me as horny as I had been when he fucked me, and I was barely doing anything yet. Oh but I would be soon. I could feel that he was trying to be as relaxed as possible, but he was doing a poor job and tensed up every time my lips touched him. I tried to calm him by rubbing soothingly on his hips and ass but having little success. I hoped that when he felt how good it was going to be he would relax and at least try to enjoy it. That he even knew what it was without me having to explain (which would have been awkwaaard) and still didn't feel comfortable told me that was probably never fond of the idea. It was just like him to be nice enough to just flat-out tell me that he thought it was disgusting and didn't want to try it. He was an open person and at the moment I was thrilled about that.

And I wonder if he knew that I noticed that he was still hard. He was just nervous was all, but maybe he didn't mind this happening as much as I thought (and I know he certainly wasn't going to ever bring such a thing up) and that this might be true made me all the more eager to try it.

I already knew I was going to like it. I liked everything about him and he was perfect and I couldn't fathom finding anything unpleasant about him. I wanted to show him what real intimacy was, how beautiful him and his body were and that I would worship him in every possible way, that nothing was nasty when it came to him. He was gorgeous everywhere in every way and I couldn't wait to taste him in that special place, but I figured I'd better err on the side of being better safe than sorry.

If I was going to get him into this, I would have to get him as turned on as possible. I debated on whether he should be on his back instead, but decided against it in case he didn't like being in such a submissive position. It would have been equally better for him to be on his knees, but he was already embarrassed enough and I didn't think it would be a good idea to ask him to move.

And let me not get started on how hot it would be if he would agree to sit on my face, which he was likely not to. But I'd asked him this far, and one good turn usually deserved another.

"Hey, Dad, do you want to sit on my chest?" Oh yeah, I was going to play it careful. I was going to suck him till his eyes crossed, then see if he wasn't horny enough to sit on my face.

"Facing me, I meant," I quickly elaborated. I didn't say that I wanted to get him aroused enough to do what I wanted to do. By the look on his face, I think he was a little relieved.

He didn't ask me why but complied. I went to situate myself against the headboard and propped the pillow he was lying on and another pillow I had under my head for leverage. He moved to straddle me and his dick was dripping. He probably felt safer about a blowjob so was happy to get one. I was happy to give one.

"Put it in my mouth, Daddy," I whispered seductively and parted my lips.

He pushed his hips forward and grabbed the headboard above me so he could jam his dick into my throat. I was caught off guard and choked. He pulled back and out of my esophagus and I was about to start sucking when he plunged back in, making me gag again.

"Fuck," he swore, reaching down to put one of his hands on my head. I wrapped my lips around his length and sucked hard and was rewarded with a gush of precum that tasted so good I clutched his hips and sucked harder for more. Dad snarled another curse and rocked back and forth, pumping in and out of my mouth for a few seconds before he pulled out and straightened himself on his knees, each on either side of my torso.

"Let me see you lick it, sweetheart," he said. That was the hottest thing I'd ever heard him say.

I stuck my tongue out and looked into his eyes. There were a lot of things about him that I loved, but I especially adored how he looked when I sucked his dick. The lust in his countenance, the desire in his voice, the way he moved his hips, he was just so dangerously sexy and I would have anything to him; anything for him. And God I loved the faces he made when he was overwhelmed with arousal, how his pretty mouth fell open, how he panted, how he cussed and grabbed my hair, grit his teeth, closed his eyes, the things he said to me; things you never say to your son but he said to me and had never said to anyone else.

When I thought about it, it was strange how we ended up like this, I wondered how he felt about me up until this point. He said he wanted me, but was it just because he was horny and I was easy for him to have? Not that I minded, because I was easy for him to have, but had he always wanted me? Had he ever stared at me when I wasn't looking? Had he ever had inappropriate thoughts about me? Had he ever thought of me while he masturbated?

At this point I didn't care, but I was curious about it. In fact, it didn't matter now and it probably never would. I had wanted him too much for too long to worry about things like that. If all he was doing was using me, then that was perfectly fine because all I wanted was sex; I already had his love. He would always be my Dad and I knew that he would always love me, so the only thing I wanted from him was his body and maybe he felt the same about me.

Back to the task at hand, I licked him painstakingly slow, making sure he got to see my tongue moving over every gorgeous inch of him, from base to tip, alternatively repeating the process and starting at his balls instead. He always hitched his breath when I licked his sac so I paid attention to them only occasionally so that he would never suspect exactly when I would do it. My plan was to get him crazy turned on, then get to licking other places. Hopefully by then he'd be so horny he didn't care if I stuck my tongue in his ass.

"Oh yes, lick it, Gohan!" he hissed when I dipped my tongue into his pisshole. "So wrong and good_..._"

Wrong and good. And that was the beauty of it.

My own neglected erection was trickling precum, I could feel it on the inside of my thigh and on my balls. I wished I could touch it so bad but I didn't want to blow my load just yet. When he sat on my face I was probably going to shoot anyway, so I had to work quickly to get him ready. With all those delicious noises he was making as I tongue-fucked his slit I knew he was getting close.

I fondled and squeezed his balls and his voice rose and that was it. I couldn't wait anymore. I ducked my head to bathe his balls in saliva before I hungrily stuffed one in my mouth and sucked and pulled until he yelped my name.

I reached behind me and yanked the pillows from under my head so that I was flat on my back and simultaneously scooted my body further down and dragged his hips up. At my sudden movements he sort of fell forward and had to grabbed the headboard for balance.

I had moved myself down so that with a simple motion of my head, I could have my mouth in position but kept jacking his shaft and sucking alternately sucking each of his nuts so that when I did switch, he would be at the height of his passion.

"Don't think," he huffed between moans. "I don't know...mmm...ngh...what you're about to do."

Dang, he was perceptive.

"You do?" I asked, tightening my grip on his cock.

"Y-yes!"

"Do you want to help me?" It would be so hot if he met me halfway at least.

He shook his head no. Oh well, I thought, I didn't mind helping myself.

Still rapidly jerking him and rubbing on a sensitive spot right below his cockhead, I slowly ran my tongue down his balls and to the hidden area underneath. There was a quick intake of breath. He was still nervous and had closed his eyes again. Aw, how cute.

He whimpered when I finally spread his cheeks and pressed the tip of my tongue for the first time against his hole. My eyes rolled back on contact. I couldn't help it and feverishly began lapping over his pink rosebud and he whimpered louder, trying to imperceptibly move away but I didn't let him. I didn't know if he was enjoying it, but I sure was and I would be damned if I weren't going to try to get him to like it.

He didn't tell me to stop, he didn't tell me he didn't like it, he didn't say anything, he just kept whimpering softly and deeply and I guess he was a bit mortified by what I was doing, only he had already agreed to let me do it and wasn't going to stop me now. God forbid he changed his mind. I'd better hurry up.

Seeing as it wasn't looking like he was going to willingly settle his weight on my face, I pushed his legs apart enough to shimmy down between them until I wasn't under him anymore. He started to move to face me but I put my hands on both of his hips and kissed him on the spot directly above his crack. He froze. I smiled.

I wanted to tell him that I was sorry that I couldn't do it slow as he had asked, but I wasn't sorry. He was so alluring with those whimpers that I had to do what I did next. I didn't even wait for him to be ready and spread him wide and gave a firm lick from his perineum to his tailbone. He shuddered, reorienting himself on his elbows and burying his head again. I rubbed his back soothingly as I french-kissed his twitching hole and jammed my tongue against it. He was very tight and very tense. Instead of leading me to take pity on him like I should have, that he was trying to move away from me made me want to stick my finger in his ass and really give him something to whimper about.

"Mmm, Dad," I drawled into his cheeks, "You taste so good and you're so hot."

We were both on our knees, me eating his ass and him biting back those noises I liked so much. Oh, no, Dad, I don't want you to do that. I loved it when he made those sweet little whining sounds and I wanted to hear more. I wanted him to moan my name in pleasure while I tongue-raped him. I wanted to watch his face like I usually did when I pleasured him, but all I was concerned about now was making him like it enough to let me do it again.

Suctioning my mouth against his tense orifice, I reached down and began pumping away at my dick. When I pulled my cheeks in, he yelped in surprise. I did say lick, kiss, and other things. Oh, he had no idea. I had said earlier that he tasted good there, but in reality he didn't really taste like anything. At first, it was just very lightly salty with the sweat of the day (yummy), then after a few licks he just tasted like nothing really. But I loved that he was clean that way (not that I wouldn't love to do this after he returned from a hard day of fighting or training, mmhmm!).

I sucked in again and got almost the same reaction, only he tried to muffled it. Every time I tried to force my tongue into him, he would tense up and no amount of rubbing got him to stop. I stopped.

"Daddy," I said. He picked his head up and I swore I heard a sigh of relief. "Do you not like this?"

He shook his head no, but said, "It's what you want to do. I'm fine."

"But I can't get my tongue in. You won't relax." The muscles in his legs got a little more taut.

He sighed. "Gohan, why would even want to do this? Do you realize, really understand, what you're doing?"

"Yes, of course I do," I said, "I've been wanting to eat your gorgeous ass forever, Dad. Do you have any idea how hard I've come thinking about this? I'm not an innocent kid anymore. It's okay to accept that and just let this happen. Relax and let me taste you. You're sexy as hell and nothing will change that. Every inch of you is beautiful and delicious. You're perfect and there isn't anything nasty about this. I can love you inside and out, just let me show you. You don't know how bad I'm turned on right now and it's even hot when you whimper and try to move away from me, but if I could just get my tongue inside you I promise it will feel awesome. You just have to let yourself like it. You've let me get this far, Dad, please, relax and let me do this."

He stared into my eyes, searching for sincerity and a reason to trust me on this and after a while I guess he found what he was looking for because he slid back down into position and surrendered himself to me. Little words could express how it felt to have a man like him submit to me. I didn't feel powerful, I felt trusted.

I caressed his cheeks and spread him again. He didn't tense up as much, but he was still shy. This time I took my time licking up and down his crack and before long I could feel his muscles loosen.

"Okay, Dad, I'm going try again now," I warned him so that he wouldn't be surprised and tense up. He nodded and ducked his head again.

I swiped my tongue over his hole once more before I poked it against his entrance. He tensed and loosened alternately, trying to calm himself and I knew it must have been hard for him. It took him a few tries, but when I felt he was loose enough I pushed forward.

I heard him inhale and pushed harder, little by little and when I felt my tongue sinking into him I lost it. I stuck my face in his ass and groaned loud as I came all over the bed without even touching myself.

"_Oh fuck_!" I moaned breathlessly against his skin, my voice muffled as I tried to lick and keep my breath in my body at the same time. Good fuck, I thought I might have been coming my life away. My fingers dug into his flesh as I shot enough cream to repopulate a small town, crushing my lips against his hole and moaning in ecstasy.

"Mmmm!" I shook my face and stuck my tongue out between his cheeks, then pulled away as my orgasm dwindled.

"Please get on your back, Dad, I've _got_ to suck your cock!" He turned on his side and flopped down on his back, spreading his legs around the pool of cum I'd left on the sheets. I was on him in an instant, driving every inch of his cock into my throat.

Oh, how he wailed when I did that and that just made me more excited. I hadn't asked him to get on his back just to suck him, though. I wanted to be able to suck him and eat him with ease. Maybe he wouldn't like the position but I couldn't help it, I had to try.

"Can I still..." I think I tried to give him an innocent, imploring look, but I might have ended up looking just as horny as I was and there wasn't anything innocent about that.

His adams apple bobbed and he shook his head yes, refusing to look down. I had exploded before I really got to show him how good it was but I had another chance and I wanted to touch his dick while I did it. I wanted him to come with my tongue as far as it could go in his ass.

Laying flat on my stomach and placing my hands under his thighs, I raised them so that his knees were bent, but not more than that. I took turns between eagerly blowing him and taking his balls into my mouth, both of which had him grinding his hips up for more. I spit on his dick and got it wet, then went to nurse one of his balls.

I know he noticed that I was carefully pushing his legs up, but he didn't make any moves to keep me from doing it and I pushed until I could clearly see his sphincter again. I needed a pillow. Grabbing the one I had tossed aside earlier, I tucked it under him again, angling him the way I wanted.

"Help me loosen up, suck me a little more," he suddenly said. I hadn't expected him to talk again until it was over, but I gladly did as he requested. I sucked and worked my throat muscles up and down his dick and stroked him at the base of his shaft to double the pleasure.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, lifting his hips off the pillow. I held him down and did it again, poking my tongue into his dribbling cock-opening and tasting his juices as I moved. He made a painful sounding moan and tried to push his hips again but I wasn't having it. My mouth left his prick and skirted down to his full, now pink balls and paid them a few seconds homage before roving further down.

Latching my hand around his dick, I returned to his crack and lovingly licked his hole. He shivered and them went lax everywhere but his legs, which I was thankful that he was helping me hold up. I kissed it, then picked up where I left off, putting pressure until my tongue entered his ass for the second time. I couldn't keep in my blissful moan. The only thing hotter was that he moaned, too. When I heard the sound, my head popped up to look at him and he had one of his arms slung over his face and his mouth was hanging open slightly.

I smirked triumphantly and repeated the action, quickly shoving my tongue against his pucker until it resisted and let me in. I pushed until I couldn't anymore and his hole constricted around my tongue for a brief moment.

"Uh...sssshh, ahh..."

He was making the sounds so low I wasn't sure I heard him the first time. I pulled back and thrust back in and then I was definitely sure of what I heard. He gasped again and began panting heavier. Soon I had built up a leisurely pace and soon he was moaning fully, a little louder now and there was the unmistakeable tilt of his hips as he tried to get more of my tongue in his hole. With it buried inside of him, I tried to move it around, but he was tight and I could only move a little. I closed my lips as best as I could and suckled sloppily, reaming my tongue in and out faster now, pulling out and frenching his opening again. When my tongue got tired, I used it to paint a wet trail up and down his crack and balls.

He was making delicious noises now, still trying to hold it in but obviously liking it. I was so happy that he was finally enjoying himself and made sure to double my efforts, yanking on his dick faster and sucking his balls when my mouth wasn't busy on his tight ass.

I could hear the straining in his voice and went back to eating him with every bit of fervor I could, sucking on his hole and fucking it as deep as I could with my tongue. My fucking goodness, I would _die_ from happiness if he let me put my finger inside him, but right then that would be pushing it and I knew it.

He was more into it now, forcing his hips against my hold. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a tube of lube that I always keep until my pillow about teetering on the edge of the bed. I pulled one of my arms out from under him to get it. His leg fell and I was only too happy to help it back up. This time I pushed them back even more and the picture he made was the lewdest manner I'd ever seen him in. I dove back into his ass and munched until my mouth got tired.

While I was doing this, I untwisted the tube above him and dropped the cap on his stomach. He couldn't see me even though he had moved his arm and was openly enjoying my mouth and that was perfect for what I had planned. I pulled myself up on my knees for better balance and so that I could prepare myself. My ass still ached, but not so much. I was horny and wouldn't have cared if it did still hurt anyway. Hiding the tube, I lifted my head.

"Dad, can you hold your leg for a minute?" I was mildly surprised by how quickly he responded, taking hold of his own leg and helping me spread him open. So_._ Hot.

"I can't believe you're doing this," he rasped, his first words in several minutes. I couldn't believe it either.

"I love you so much, Dad, I'd do anything for you," I replied, sucking his cock between my puffy lips.

"Mmm!" I _loved _sucking his cock. He made a lot of precum and the taste of it was better than fucking candy.

While his eyes were occupied in his head, I hastily prepared my ass, quickly stretching it. It hurt and I know I wasn't doing a good job of prepping, but I didn't care. I had taken him with no prep so this was nothing anyway.

I sucked until he started to shout, signaling he was getting closer. Then I unceremoniously dropped his leg, pulled his hand away from his other leg, jumped on top of him and dropped my ass on his cock clear to the hilt. He yelled and I screamed. Shit, that hurt!

Despite my pain, I briskly bounced on his dick, the angle of his hips given by the pillow making him stab into my prostate with a force that stole the air from lungs. I let out a hoarse cry, grabbed his biceps, and rode him for all I was worth.

His hands were on my hips, willingly helping me go to faster, harder, thrusting up to match my tempo. We built up fast and soon he was pounding me so hard my head jerked around limply on my neck like a bobble doll; I was distantly afraid I would fracture or break it. Dad, being ever so intuitive, tightened his hold on me and in a dizzying motion flipped me on my back.

My legs instantly came to wrap around his waist, but he seized them and pushed them up and open to the sides of my head without breaking his momentum, then leaned down all the way into me. I _howled. _

"God, YES!" He growled, "Oh yes, _yes_, you fucking nasty little...mmm, uh...uh! Uhhhooohhh!" right in my ear. Oh hell yes.

I arched up against him and shrieked his name over and over as the entire bed shook and banged against the wall. I faintly felt something wet and sharp against my neck and realized that he was literally chewing and sucking the skin there in his animalistic passion. I was still clutching his powerful biceps, the muscles contracting and rippling with every trust, sobbing in ecstasy and holding on for dear, sweet, heavenly life.

Raw, male power radiated from his heavy body, his very being, and though I'd had him in a similar position, whimpering from the feeling of my tongue in his ass, this was how it was ultimately going to be at the end of the day. He was and always would be the dominant one, the one who held all the power, all the control and I loved him for that, too, because I had needed him to dominate me since I was a child, I just hadn't known it until today.

His sharp canines damaged my flawless neck and lips roughly sucked the bleeding bite mark he left behind, lunging deeply in me, pulling out to the tip and expertly slamming back in, into my sweetspot, again and again and again, harder and harder and faster and deeper and deeper, like he was punishing me for making him enjoy the nasty things I did to him. But this was the sort of punishment I didn't mind at all, he could fuck me until I woke up in front of Kami and I wouldn't care.

"_Uugghh, fuck me, Daddy, tear me afuckingpart! Yeah, ohyeahohyesohGod—nnnhhhgghh, don't s-stop! Don't ever...ever_..._ever...uh, uh, yes, uh, uhh, Gooooahhhdddd!" _

My father wound one of his arms around my bending back and pulled me impossibly closer as I shook violently, my orgasm crashing through me so forcefully that even when my eyes flew open I was blinded by the shock. Agonizing screams ripped out of my throat, burning and high-pitched like I was dying. As far as I was concerned, this was as close to death as I had ever been. My heart felt like it was going to burst open and drain my blood into my chest, drown me, and take my life away and it was okay because there was no better feeling in the world than to experience near death in the form of an orgasm.

I think I lost my voice completely because the screaming stopped, only hiccuping gasps and tiny broken moans mixed with his own deep, manly groans, that were getting louder and more desperate and more winded until they hit a crescendo and he was shouting next to my ear, my name and several curses and proclamations of his love for me.

His come felt like a flood unleashed in my ass, filling me before a minute had passed, more than the last time, adding and gushing out and down my asscheeks. The feeling was wonderful. He pumped me a few more time, practically whining in pleasure as he unloaded inside of me. Exhaustion was catching up fast but I didn't want to pass out. I wanted to watch him in the afterglow, but I was so tired.

With a satisfied grunt, he let me go and his entire body weight collapsed right on top of me, driving the air I had worked so hard to get back out of my chest. I could only manage a soft grunt in response. I could hear his breathing, rough and quick, feel it against my should as he gulped in mouthfuls of air and a lazy smile crossed my face.

This was what he needed and I was able to give it to him. I was able to play out my greatest fantasies of us, to show him how much I loved him, what I was willing to do to please him, to give him pleasure he had never experienced, to lose my virginity to the most important person in my life, and I was the happiest person alive thanks to him.

I forced my ragged voice to say, "Thank you...Dad..." The last thing I felt before I lost consciousness was a soft, answering kiss on my shoulder.

THE END.

Hey, ya'll, review and tell me how perverted I am. You know you want to.


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